I'm So Far From My Home
by Supervillegirl
Summary: Dean has a secret that he doesn't want Sam to find out. But when the past catches up to him, will he have a choice?
1. Chapter 1

I'm So Far From My Home

Chapter One

**My story takes place in late 2005. The events of Dark Angel took place when the show aired, not in 2021. So, it's been three years since the events of "Freak Nation."**

Dean stumbled out of the bar, swaying slightly as a couple of bar-goers followed him out the door.

Dean smiled at them. "Hey, bett'r luck nex' time, fellas. No 'ard feelin's."

The men grumbled as they charged off into the night. Dean continued to make his drunken way towards the Impala, smiling goofily at Sam, who was sitting on the hood. When the men had disappeared, Dean plopped onto the hood next to Sam.

"Overkill, dude," said Sam.

Dean looked over at him with a satisfied smile. "What's overkill?"

"You don't look drunk," said Sam. "You look on the verge of hammered and stoned. I'm amazed they didn't figure out you were playing them."

"Hey, play the other guy, not the game," said Dean. "Rule number one."

"I thought rule number one was shotgun shuts his cakehole," said Sam.

"That's car rules," said Dean. "I'm talking hustling rules."

"I see," said Sam. "How much did you get off them?"

"Five hundred," smiled Dean.

Sam whistled. "No wonder they looked pissed."

Dean laughed. "Come on." He hopped off the hood, slapping Sam's leg. "Time to spend my money."

"You mean **our **money?" asked Sam, getting off the hood also.

"Yeah, that's what I said," said Dean, climbing behind the driver's seat.

Sam laughed as he got into the passenger seat. "Sometimes I wonder how you can be such a smartass."

Dean smiled as he looked at the parking lot in front of him. _You don't want to know, Sammy. You don't want to know._

_*****************SN**********************_

Sam walked out of the bathroom to find Dean changing his shirt for the night. As he pulled the dirty one off and tossed it aside, Sam spotted something he'd never noticed before.

"You got a tattoo?" asked Sam.

Dean fumbled a little and looked up at Sam, eyes wide. "What?"

"Your tattoo," said Sam. "When did you get it?"

Dean put a hand over said tattoo, eyes darting back and forth. "Uh…just after you left for Stanford. I wanted to do something radical, too."

Sam laughed, taking in the barcode on Dean's neck. "Proof of purchase, huh?"

For some reason, Dean's face paled, but he forced a smile out. "Yeah, something like that."

"Nice," said Sam. "I bet you get a ton of girls with some lame line like that."

Dean smiled. "And it works every time."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Dean laughed as he threw on another shirt, trying but failing to cover up his tattoo. Sam had never noticed the tattoo, but could you really blame him? Dean kept the back of the collar of every jacket turned up—not the front, just the back. No wonder Sam had never seen it before. Was Dean ashamed of the tattoo?

Dean fidgeted uncomfortably under Sam's stare. He'd always been so careful when he was out in public, even with his family. He usually covered the tattoo up with makeup of some sort—and wasn't it real awkward being a guy buying makeup at the store.

_Sammy can never find out,_ Dean thought. _He can never find out the things that I did…what I am. He'll never forgive me._

_**********************SN*********************************_

Sam awoke to the alarm clock, sitting up in the motel bed. "Come on, Dean."

Dean groaned from the other bed. "It's five in the morning."

"And?" asked Sam.

"We went to bed at one," complained Dean.

"You can take it up with Amelia Shanitz when we're digging up her corpse," said Sam. "Now up."

Dean pulled himself out of bed, stretching his back. "Aw…" He grimaced as he stood up. "Damned rested and ready."

Sam took a closer look at Dean. Despite his complaints that he'd only gotten four hours of sleep, Dean looked ready to run a marathon. There were no bags under his eyes, his eyes weren't bloodshot, his skin wasn't pale or waxy, and he was moving as though he'd gotten a full night's sleep. Sam never understood that. The two of them never got more than five hours of sleep. Sam could feel the effects wearing on him every day, but Dean looked completely healthy all the time.

Sam shook himself from his musings. "So, graveyard shift, huh?"

Dean chuckled. "Very funny, Sammy."

**********************SN**********************************

Sam fought back the spirit, dispelling it with rock salt. He rushed to the grave, spilling gasoline and salt onto the bones. He lit a match and tossed it in. When the spirit burst into flames and disappeared, Sam looked up at Dean, and his eyes went wide. They had been dealing with Amelia's spirit when they'd been jumped by a demon. What Sam was watching now was beyond belief.

Dean jumped as the demon swung a leg under him. When he landed, Dean planted a punch to his face, catching him off guard. The demon swung his right arm forward to punch Dean in the face, but Dean caught the fist in his hand, twisting it away from him. He nailed the demon in the leg with his foot, hitting the outside of the knee and breaking it. Dean jumped and spun around, swinging a leg around and connecting with the demon's head. The demon went to the ground as Dean landed expertly.

"Whoa," said Sam. Dean looked nervously over at him. "That was amazing!"

Dean smiled. "I know."

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?" asked Sam.

Dean hesitated for a moment. "Where else? From Dad."

"He never taught me any of that."

"Well, you disappeared to college before he could." Sam just stared at him. "You gonna help me over here?"

"Yeah," said Sam. He got up and walked over to Dean, helping him exorcize the demon.

"Alright, two baddies down," said Dean. "This calls for a beer."

"Dean, it's not even eight o'clock yet," said Sam.

"So we'll have a backwards day," said Dean. "Come on."

They drove to a store in town, buying a six-pack. At the register, Dean was turning to give the clerk a twenty when someone bumped into Sam. Sam stumbled and dropped the six-pack.

"I am so sorry," said the guy. He picked up the six-pack and handed it back to Sam. "Did any of them break?"

Sam checked the bottles. "No, they look fine."

"Alright, sorry," said the guy. He hurried off into the store, glancing back once at Dean.

Sam turned to see Dean watching the guy with narrowed eyes. "Dean." Dean looked at Sam. "You gonna pay for that any time soon?"

Dean glanced back at the guy once before looking at the clerk, handing over the cash.

_There's something about that guy I don't like,_ thought Dean.

They left the store and headed back to the motel. Dean cracked open a beer.

"Cheers," said Dean.

Sam smiled as he opened his own. "To a job well done."

"Hell yeah," said Dean as they clinked their glasses. Dean took a giant gulp as Sam did the same. "Oh, that's great stuff."

"It is," agreed Sam.

Dean blinked a few times as he took another drink. It suddenly seemed very warm in the room.

"We got another job?" asked Dean.

"We just got back from a job," said Sam. "Give me a breather."

"Fine," said Dean, coughing a little. He got to his feet, heading for the kitchen. His legs seemed so heavy. He tripped over his own two feet and caught himself on the bedrail.

"You okay?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, just a little tired," said Dean. His vision began to swim as he wiped a hand across his sweaty brow. He looked down at his hand to see a couple of boils breaking out.

_Oh, you gotta be kidding me,_ thought Dean. He looked over at the beer sitting on the table, realizing what was going on. _They spiked the beer…That's who that guy at the store was…one of White's men…They finally found me…genetically targeted retrovirus…Must…warn…Sammy…_

Dean turned towards Sam, trying to tell him, but he was too tired.

"Dean?" came Sam's voice through the delirium. "Are you okay? You look horrible."

Dean tried to take a step towards Sam, opening his mouth to tell him. A sudden clenching pain ripped through his stomach. He cried out in pain as he fell to his knees.

"Dean!"

Dean collapsed onto his side, clutching his abdomen as he yelled in pain.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Sam rushed towards Dean, leaning over him. Dean's face was scrunched up in pain as he yelled.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, hands on Dean's shoulders. "Oh, God…Dean…"

"Max…" said Dean through his cries.

"What?" asked Sam, leaning closer.

"Call…Max…" said Dean, locking eyes with Sam. "4…9…4…"

"What does that mean?" asked Sam frantically. Dean's eyes rolled up into his head as his head fell to the floor. "Dean? Who's Max? Dean!"

But Dean wouldn't respond. Sam dug in Dean's pocket and pulled out his brother's cell phone. He scanned through the contacts until he found one named "Max." Sam quickly dialed it.

"Hello?" came a feminine voice from the other line.

"Is this Max?" asked Sam hurriedly.

"Maybe," she replied. "Can I ask who's calling?"

"Sam Winchester. I think you know my brother Dean."

"Sorry, don't know any Dean Winchester."

"Wait! He said to call you! Something's wrong with him! We're at Northern Lights Motel, room six, Portland, Oregon—"

"Look, I don't know this Dean."

"He gave me a number…uh…494!"

Max paused. "494?"

"Yeah. That mean anything?"

"What's he look like?"

"Six-two, brown hair, green eyes, barcode tattoo—"

"I'll be right there."

She hung up, and Sam stared at the phone before dropping it and turning back to Dean.

"Come on, Dean, hold on," said Sam. "Help's on the way."

Three hours later, Dean hadn't changed…unless you counted the increasing paleness, growing boils and shallow breathing.

A knock came at the motel door, and Sam sprang to his feet, swinging the door open.

A brunette woman stood in the door with what looked like a first aid kit…a large first aid kit. Sam assumed she was Max. She barged into the room, heading straight for Dean. She looked him over for a second.

"Has he gotten any milk lately?" asked Max.

Sam did a double-take. "You know about his serotonin deficiency?"

Max looked up at him. "**You** know?"

Sam shook his head. "That's not what this is. He didn't seize or anything. And he had milk, like, six hours ago. He started sweating and looking real tired. Then he collapsed to the floor, yelling in pain."

Max took another look at him. "Did he eat or drink anything recently?"

Sam's eyes widened. "The beer. It happened after he drank that beer."

"Dammit," said Max, opening her kit.

"You don't think he was poisoned, do you?" asked Sam.

"Probably," said Max, pulling out a needle and moving towards Dean's arm.

"What are you doing?" asked Sam.

"It's a genetically targeted retrovirus," said Max, sticking the needle in Dean's vein in his arm. "He needs the antibodies I have."

"How do you know that it's—"

"Not important."

Max connected the other end of the tube to a needle, sticking it in one of her veins. She opened the tubing, allowing gravity to draw her blood down into Dean's veins. As the three of them sat there for five minutes, Dean's skin had begun to return to its normal color. Max disconnected the tubing and put it away, bandaging herself and Dean up. They waited another ten minutes before Dean stopped sweating and his skin cleared up. Dean began moaning as he moved his head from side to side.

"Dean?" asked Sam, leaning over him.

Dean groaned again and opened his eyes. He looked up at Sam and then glanced over at Max and the tubing next to her. "I take it, it worked."

Max leaned over and slapped him across the face. Sam looked at her in shock.

Dean glared up at her. "What was that for?"

"You idiot," said Max. "What did you do this time to get White's attention? What, you cage fighting again? Or was it something more stupid?"

"I didn't do anything!" Dean yelled at her, pulling himself up to sit against the bed. "They found me! I didn't do anything!"

"What's going on, Dean?" asked Sam. "Who's White? You're cage fighting?"

"Well, you must have done something," said Max. "Why else would they poison you?"

"Maybe because they ran into me one day and followed me, I don't know!" said Dean. "I've been keeping a low profile."

"Oh, you mean since you left Terminal City," said Max. "Want to explain why?"

"What's Terminal City?" asked Sam.

"It's none of your business why I left!" yelled Dean.

"Dean, what is going on?" asked Sam. "Who is she?" Dean turned to give Sam some kind of reply.

"What do you mean, it's none of my business?" said Max. "You were practically my second-in-command, and you just ditch us? We needed you, Alec!" Dean looked at her, beginning to answer.

"Second-in-command?" said Sam. "What's that mean? Why's she calling you Alec?"

"Alright, both of you, shut up!" yelled Dean. The two of them stopped their yelling. Dean looked back and forth between the two of them, finally deciding to start with Max. "You're gonna have to wait. I need to explain to Sam first."

"Is that right?" said Max.

"Yes," said Dean viciously. "He's my brother. He deserves it."

Max's eyes seemed to widen at the mention of 'brother.'

Dean looked at Sam. "First off, I never wanted you to find out about this. It was my burden to bear. Once you know all the things I've done…what I am…"

Sam pulled himself over next to Dean. "It's okay. Whatever it is…you can tell me."

Dean looked down at his hands, seemingly trying to figure out what to say. He looked back up at Sam. "I'm not who you think I am."

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You remember all those news stories three or four years ago about Manticore and mutants breaking out?" asked Dean.

Sam frowned, thinking back. "I think so. It was some government operation that created genetically engineered humans…kept track of them with barcodes on their…" Sam trailed off, staring at Dean. He remember the barcode tattoo on the back of his neck. _How did I not put that together?_ Sam thought. "You're…"

"A transgenic?" said Dean. "Afraid so."

Sam looked down at his feet, eyes wide. _It can't be…He's a mutant? I would've noticed by now…_ But then again, he **had **noticed. The way Dean fought this morning, the barcode on his neck, the way he's never tired… _It's all true._ Sam looked up at Max. "Is she one?"

"Yeah," said Max. She lifted up her hair and turned her head a little, showing Sam her barcode. She dropped her hair as she turned back to the brothers.

"What was with that number you gave her?" asked Sam. "494?"

"It's the way Manticore kept track of us," said Dean. "Max and I are the X-series. My designation is X5-494. Max is X5-452."

"There's something I don't understand," said Max. "How can he be your brother? You're Manticore."

Dean sighed. "It was an experiment. I mean, there were cloners, right?" Max nodded her understanding.

"Cloners?" asked Sam.

"Sometimes, they create multiples of one set of DNA," said Dean. "Max has a twin: X5-453. I have a twin: X5-493. His name was Ben. He, uh, kinda went psycho…which proved their theory, I guess."

"What do you mean?" asked Max.

"They wanted to do some kind of social experiment," said Dean. "See if the environment had any effect on a transgenic's personality. They kept Ben in Manticore, but they gave me to a family…John and Mary Winchester. They adopted me because they couldn't have children…well, until Sam, anyway. I had to return to Manticore once a year, though, to train. I would stay there for about a week and then I was returned to my home. My parents never suspected a thing."

"So…Mom and Dad never noticed you were missing for a week?" asked Sam.

"Well, a Manticore employee always came by saying they were my biological grandparents…wanted to spend the week with me," said Dean. They had DNA matches and certificates and everything. Mom and Dad bought it."

Sam's eyes widened as he looked down at his feet. "You're really not my brother?"

"Hey," said Dean. Sam looked up at him. "I may not share DNA with you, but I **am** your brother. Nothing changes that." Sam smiled a little, reassured.

"So, when I met you at Manticore, that was your assigned week?" asked Max.

"Well, that was about the time that Sam went off to Stanford," said Dean. "I only had Dad around, so I could slip away more often. He thought I was working jobs."

"But then you disappeared a year after we set up shop in Terminal City," said Max. "What happened, Alec?"

"Why does she call you Alec?" asked Sam.

"That's the name she gave me," said Dean. "I couldn't go by Dean at Manticore, only my designation. So, Max gave me a name."

"And she chose Alec?" asked Sam.

"It's short for Smart Alec," said Max.

Sam smiled. "Yeah, it would be."

"Well, a year after Terminal City got established," said Dean. "I'd been away from my father for a long time. I needed to check up with him. So, I left to go find him. We hunted together for a while until he disappeared a few months ago."

"He's missing?" asked Max.

"Yeah, that's why I'm with Sam now," said Dean. "We're trying to find him."

Max shook her head. "I just don't understand how you could have gone along with Manticore when you had a family to teach you what was right and wrong. How could you be so cold?"

Dean glared at her. "You have no idea what I've been through."

"Oh, really?" said Max. "Because it sounds like you were living the perfect life while the rest of us were being treated like lab rats back at Manticore."

Dean stood up, towering over her, his face a mask of fury. "Don't you dare judge me! You have no clue who I am!"

"A traitor!" yelled Max, getting in his face. "You left the rest of us there to suffer at their hands while you were safe at home!"

Dean punched Max in the jaw, fuming. Max looked up at him as Dean glared at her. "You think I wasn't suffering? You have no idea the hell that I've…" Dean clenched his jaw shut. "Get out."

"Alec—" began Max.

"Get out!" yelled Dean in her face.

Max glared at him before turning towards the door. "You're welcome, jerk." She left, slamming the door.

Sam looked at Dean. "What the hell did they do to you, Dean?"

Dean looked up at him, still fuming, and went into the bathroom to clean up.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Dean sat in the driver's seat of the Impala, driving to their next job. Sam was staring at the road, wondering how to proceed. Dean had avoided him all last night after he came out of the bathroom. Sam was still wondering about the conversation he'd witnessed.

_Max shook her head. "I just don't understand how you could have gone along with Manticore when you had a family to teach you what was right and wrong. How could you be so cold?"_

_Dean glared at her. "You have no idea what I've been through."_

"_Oh, really?" said Max. "Because it sounds like you were living the perfect life while the rest of us were being treated like lab rats back at Manticore."_

_Dean stood up, towering over her, his face a mask of fury. "Don't you dare judge me! You have no clue who I am!"_

"_A traitor!" yelled Max, getting in his face. "You left the rest of us there to suffer at their hands while you were safe at home!"_

_Dean punched Max in the jaw, fuming. Max looked up at him as Dean glared at her. "You think I wasn't suffering? You have no idea the hell that I've…" Dean clenched his jaw shut. "Get out."_

"_Alec—" began Max._

"_Get out!" yelled Dean in her face._

Sam glanced over at Dean, looking at the barcode on his neck. He looked down at his hands nervously.

"So…" began Sam. He saw Dean tense out of the corner of his eye. "Transgenic, huh?"

Sam could sense Dean's relaxation as he shifted in the driver's seat.

"Yeah," said Dean. "Hard to believe, huh?"

"Yeah, actually," said Sam. "I'm still a little in shock."

"Me, too," said Dean. "I never expected you to find out, let alone like that."

Sam turned to him. "So, what, you were never going to tell me?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam…"

"You were just gonna lie to me forever? You said it yourself: I'm your brother. I deserved to know, Dean."

"Would you cut me some slack?"

"Why? It's not like you cut me any. When were you planning on telling me?"

"Telling you what? That I'm a genetically engineered mutant brewed up in a government lab with super human abilities that was trained my entire life to kill people? Oh, yeah, I was just jumping in my shoes to fill you in."

Sam nodded, realizing where Dean was coming from. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," sighed Dean. "I really should have told you. I was just trying to protect you from all that."

Sam chuckled a little. "That explains it, then."

"What?"

"Your soldier mentality. You always follow Dad's orders without question…like it was engrained in you to follow orders."

"Heh, you're right. I never realized that."

"So…you ever use your abilities to help you on a hunt?" asked Sam.

Dean chuckled. "When haven't I? Didn't you ever wonder why I was so good at hunting at night?"

"Yeah, it was like you had night vision," said Sam. He stopped and looked at Dean. "You have night vision?"

"Not really. It's more like our eyes have the ability to take in light more readily. Our eyes can enhance that light to make us see things better."

"What else? I mean, I've noticed things since Stanford, but…"

"Well…I've always put up an act of being cranky 'cause I don't get enough sleep. It's not true. I get more than enough sleep. I really only need to sleep one, maybe two hours. If I'm sick—which is almost never—I sleep four. I just pretend I'm asleep most of the time."

"You don't have to do that. You can borrow my laptop while I'm asleep."

Dean smiled. "Thanks, Sammy."

Sam frowned. "How did I not notice your barcode before now? I mean, you've had it forever, right?"

"Well, I cover it up."

"Yeah, with your collar, but you aren't always wearing a jacket." Dean clenched his jaw. "Dean?"

"I bo…m…up," Dean muttered under his breath.

"I didn't catch that."

"I bought make up," Dean bit off.

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh. He couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face. "Let me get this straight: you go into a store, like, once a week to buy make up?"

"Shut up," said Dean.

"And all this time, you were calling **me **the girl," Sam said as he laughed. "Need some more foundation, Deanna?"

"I used to get it lasered off at Manticore and then with Max, but I haven't had access to one of those things in three years. You gotta make due with what you have."

"And what you have is make up," Sam laughed.

"Can we move on, please?"

Sam tapered his laughing off. "Okay, go ahead."

"You remember the woman in white?" asked Dean. "How I called you, Constance showed up, and then I shot her at her house? How I showed up from across town in less than, like, three minutes."

"You ran there?"

"We can run so fast that it's like Clark Kent superspeeding…almost. We call it blurring. When I heard Constance's voice, I blurred straight to her house."

"That explains a lot."

"And when that lake spirit tried to drown Lucas?"

"Yeah, you were under for, like, two minutes at one point."

"There you go."

"Transgenics can hold their breath for two minutes?"

"No. We can hold it for over four."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"What else?"

"The bees…how I seemed to heal faster than you?"

"Yeah?"

"I did. Our bodies heal faster."

"Well, that explains the broken leg you senior year. You were up and walking in, like, a week."

"And there's something else. My fear of flying."

"Really? That's from Manticore?"

"Not directly. There was one mission they sent me on. They wanted me to kill this executive that was turning on Manticore…crash his private jet. I was to pose as the pilot. I steered the plane towards the ocean, disabled the controls and took the last parachute." Dean glanced over at Sam. "I'm sorry. I never wanted you to know this."

"I think I agree with Max."

Dean looked at him. "What?"

"How could you agree to kill people, Dean? Something's up. What did you mean last night? What did they do to you?"

Dean clenched his jaw, looking back at the road. "How much further we got?"

Sam rolled his eyes as he grabbed the map. "Two hundred miles."

"Good," said Dean, switching on some Zeppelin and turning it up, ending the conversation.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Excuse me," said Dean as they entered the sheriff's office and flashed their badges. "Detectives Plant and Dante. We're here about the Wilson case."

The sheriff smiled at them. "Sure, how can I help you?"

"David Wilson's body was found decapitated, correct?" asked Sam.

"Yes," said the sheriff.

"Any idea how he got like that?" asked Dean.

"We found some blood on a kitchen knife next to him," said the sheriff. "We believe he tripped or something and fell on it."

Dean narrowed his eyes, noting the sheriff's slightly increased heartbeat, the shift of his feet, the new action of his sweat glands, the way the sheriff's eyes moved up and to the left.

"You're lying," said Dean suddenly.

The sheriff looked at him. "Excuse me?"

"That's not what you think, is it?" said Dean.

The sheriff hesitated. "To tell you the truth, no. You would need a lot more force than a simple fall to cut through the throat cartilage, vertebral column and spinal cord with a butcher knife. Someone would have had to do it to him. However, no one was there, and the only prints on the knife are his own."

"Okay, thanks, sheriff," said Sam. They walked out of the office. "What was that?"

"What do you mean?" asked Dean.

"You could tell he was lying," Sam wondered. "I couldn't even do that."

"His heart sped up a little, he was shifting on his feet—which signals being nervous, his sweat glands started working, and he looked up and to his left—which signals that he's accessing the creative cortex of the brain. Therefore, he was lying."

Sam looked at him in amazement. "I'm never gonna get away with anything again, am I?"

Dean laughed. "Not likely."

That night, they were at the Wilson house, looking for the missing speck of DNA to salt and burn. Sam raised his gun, but it was flung out of his hand.

"Sam, look out!" Dean called.

Sam was flung off his feet towards a wall headfirst. Dean blurred forward and threw his hand between the wall and Sam's head. Sam's head slammed into Dean's hand, crushing it against the wall. Sam fell to the floor as Dean withdrew his hand, grimacing.

"Son of a bitch!" exclaimed Dean, holding his crushed hand. "Mother—"

"You okay?" asked Sam, a little dizzy.

"Yeah, just keep an eye on that ghost!" Dean warned.

Sam got up, reaching for his gun. Dean saw the spirit appear in the middle of the room, making a knife float into the air. The knife flung itself towards Sam's head. Dean darted forward, grabbing the knife out of the air. Sam looked to see the blade five inches from his face.

"Nice catch," said Sam shakily. Dean got out of Sam's way, and Sam stood up, shooting the spirit with rock salt. "Go!"

"No, I'll hold her off!" Dean told him. "You go!"

"You'll be able to find it faster than me!" said Sam. "Go!"

Dean groaned and blurred into the dark basement. He focused his eyes, letting the minimal light into his eyes to lighten up the room. He rushed to a desk in the corner, searching for anything that could count as remains. He heard a gunshot from upstairs and wanted to shout out to see if Sam was alright. However, that would distract Sam, so Dean focused his hearing.

There were several deep breaths.

"Come on, you bitch," Sam muttered. He cocked the shotgun. "Eat rock salt." A shot went off.

Dean laughed as he continued searching. He found an old hairbrush in the bottom desk drawer.

"Yahtzee," said Dean.

He pulled out his lighter, burning the brush. There was a yell from upstairs that was quickly extinguished. Dean rushed upstairs as Sam turned towards him.

"She's gone," said Sam, shouldering the shotgun. Dean began smiling a little. "What?"

Dean's smile grew. "'Eat rock salt'?"

Sam's eyes widened. "You heard that?"

"Of course. Had to look after you, even if I was downstairs." Dean smiled some more. "'Eat rock salt'?"

Sam smiled. "It fit the moment."

The two of them began laughing as they headed out of the house.

******SN**********

Dean and Sam sat at the bar, having a couple drinks.

"I have another question," began Sam.

"Sam, I am not going to tell you what Manticore did to me," said Dean, aggravated.

"That's not what I was going to ask, although we **are** going to talk about that later," said Sam. "I always get drunk faster than you even though you have the same amount of beer."

"You can't hold your liquor, Samantha," Dean laughed.

"Shut up," said Sam, shoving Dean in the shoulder.

"Yeah, that's the reason. My liver and bloodstream can filter the alcohol faster and better than the usual human. So, yeah, it takes **a lot** to get me drunk."

"Should we test that limit?" smiled Sam.

"I don't think so. I'm scary when I'm drunk."

Sam's phone suddenly rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He opened it and put it to his ear. "Hello?" His eyes widened, and he looked at Dean, face stunned. "Dad?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Sam pulled his cell phone out of his pocket at the bar, putting it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Sam, is that you?" came a familiar voice from the other line.

Sam's eyes widened as he looked at Dean. "Dad?"

Dean's eyes widened as he sat forward, focusing his hearing to listen to the other end of the conversation.

"Are you hurt?" asked Sam.

"I'm fine," said John.

"We've been looking for you everywhere," said Sam. "We didn't know where you were, if you were okay."

"Sammy, I'm alright. What about you and Dean?"

"We're fine. Dad, where are you?"

"Sorry, kiddo. I can't tell you that."

"What? Why not?"

"Look, I know this is hard for you to understand. You're just gonna have to trust me on this."

"You're after it, aren't you? The thing that killed Mom."

"Yeah. It's a demon, Sam."

"A demon? You know for sure?"

"I do. Listen, Sammy, I, uh…I also know what happened to your girlfriend. I'm so sorry. I would've done anything to protect you from that."

"You know where it is?"

"Yeah, I think I'm finally closing in on it."

"Let us help."

"You can't. You can't be any part of it."

"Why not?"

Dean held his hand out. "Give me the phone."

"Listen, Sammy, that's why I'm calling," said John. "You and your brother, you gotta stop looking for me. Alright, now, I need you to write down these names."

"Names?" said Sam. "What names, Dad—talk to me, tell me what's going on."

"Look, we don't have time for this," said John. "This is bigger than you think. They're everywhere. Even us talking right now, it's not safe."

"No," said Sam. "Alright? No way."

Dean waved his hand again a little. "Give me the phone."

"I have given you an order," said John. "Now, you stop following me, and you do your job. You understand me? Now, take down these names."

Sensing a blowout from Sam not far away, Dean grabbed the phone from Sam. He was about to ask what the names were, before he remembered that a normal human wouldn't know what John had been talking to Sam about. "Dad, it's me. Where are you?"

"Dean, it's not important, okay?" said John. "You two need to stay away, okay?"

"Yes, sir," said Dean, cursing himself inside for his knack of following orders.

"Okay, I got some names for you to take down," said John. "You ready?"

Dean fumbled in his jacket for a pen, scooting a napkin over to him. "Uh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?"

"Scott Fraken, David Jones, Phil Lantin and Carl Moser from Miami. Tom Gradin and William Mentel from Chicago. Robert Yates, Edward Kelser and Peter Barret from New York. Timothy Ryan and Roger Lewis from Seattle."

Dean froze halfway through the names, recognizing them. _No…Dad can't be talking about that…_

"They were all killed in the same manner," said John. "Someone tattooed a barcode onto their necks, hunted them down and killed them, displaying their bodies on rocks in the woods with a broken arm. Then the killer pulled all of their teeth out."

_Oh, God, no,_ Dean thought, eyes widening. _How did he get wind of this?_

"It seems like a serial killer, but apparently all victims were killed by a broken neck by manual force," said John. "Whatever did this broke the necks with their own hands…it has some kind of super human strength. I'm thinking a demon or maybe a shapeshifter."

"Where is it now?" asked Dean, playing along.

"Last murder put it in Seattle," said John. "There's a group of them living in the city. I'm headed up there now. You boys will need help on this one. But then you've gotta let me go hunt the demon and quit looking for me. You got that?"

"You're headed there right now?" asked Dean in alarm.

"Yeah," said John. "See you boys in a few days."

"Wait, no, Dad!" Dean began, but John had already hung up. Dean pulled the phone away from his ear. "Dammit!"

"What is it?" asked Sam.

"Dad got wind of my psycho twin," said Dean. "He's going after Terminal City right now. We gotta go!"

Dean and Sam rushed out of the bar and got into the Impala, peeling away into the night.

"Your psycho twin?" asked Sam. "Ben?"

"Yeah," said Dean. "I don't know what happened, but he went crazy from being locked up in Manticore for so long. The real world kind of pushed him over the edge. When I ran into some trouble with the authorities three years ago…you know, being mistaken for him and everything, I decided to study up on him in case it ever happened again. All the names Dad gave me were all the people Ben had killed. Ben killed eleven people—four in Miami, two in Chicago, three in New York and then two in Seattle. That was when Max tracked him down and killed him. Ben gave each victim his barcode—some kind of way to kill himself over and over—hunted them down and broke their necks. He displayed them on rocks the way we all had at Manticore in our training. Then he pulled out their teeth."

"Pulled out their teeth? What the hell?"

"Who knows what he was thinking," said Dean. "But we gotta get there to stop Dad and tell him what's going on."

"You think he'll believe us?"

"I hope."

*********SN**********

Dean parked the Impala outside their room for the night. True, he could probably keep going, but Sam needed sleep.

They took turns in the bathroom and climbed into their separate beds. Dean was lying on his side, facing the wall. He knew he had to tell Sam…it was only fair.

"So…" began Dean. He heard Sam shift on the other bed. "You want to know what Manticore did to me?"

He heard Sam sit up on the bed. "Yeah."

Dean took a couple deep breaths. "I'm not what Max says I am. I never wanted to be part of it. I had no choice." He took a long pause. "I didn't really start questioning things until I was about six or seven. Not much I could do about it at that point anyway. I just asked questions. I started fighting back at thirteen…right when they wanted me to go on my first mission. I refused. I didn't want to kill anyone…but then they threatened to hurt people…people I cared about."

"Who?" asked Sam.

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You."

There was a pause in the room. "What?"

"They threatened to hurt my family," Dean went on. "I didn't believe them. The next day, they brought me upstairs to talk to me or something. There was a window that looked into another room. They turned on the lights, and…" Dean took a deep breath as the anger hit him, "you were there…unconscious…strapped down to a table."

"So that's what happened…someone had hit me over the head, and that night, I woke up in the motel room."

"They said they would kill you and then hunt Dad down. I didn't have a choice. I didn't want you to die because of me." Dean put his hand to his head. "I killed people, Sammy, because I gave in to a threat. I couldn't get away from them…not until Max firebombed them. Over time, I had grown comfortable there. God help me, it was like I spaced out or something while I was there. I grew right into that soldier mentality they wanted. Max was the one who got to me. She started to get through to me while we were in Manticore together four years ago. When she blew up Manticore…it kinda shocked me out of it. I spent a while on my own, going back and forth between Dad and Max…just trying to pick up the pieces. If it wasn't for Max…I'd probably still be at Manticore right now."

"Dean…" began Sam, clearing his throat. "It's not your fault. I don't blame you. you were trying to save me and Dad. you had no choice."

"I know that. But I still can't ignore the fact that I hurt people. I can never take that back."

Dean pulled the blanket further up his body, shutting Sam out for the night.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Sam and Dean stood at the corner of a building, looking at the gates in front of them.

"This is Terminal City?" asked Sam.

"Yep," said Dean.

"They just locked you all up in there?" asked Sam.

"At first," said Dean. "After about five months of the cops watching the perimeter, we finally came to an agreement. They agreed that we hadn't done anything wrong and deserved a chance. They passed a law that let us go about our own business…live our lives, buy a house, get a job. But, of course, what human is gonna hire a transgenic? And no one wants to live next to a transgenic, so…most of us are still here. Too much persecution in a regular neighborhood."

"It's like African American rights in the sixties all over again," said Sam.

"Almost," said Dean. He looked around them and spotted John's truck in the alley. "He's here."

They darted into the building, racing for the roof. They found John at the edge of the roof, rifle aimed at Terminal City. Dean looked to see him taking aim at Mole.

"Dad, no!" Dean called. He blurred forward and grabbed the rifle from John.

"What are you doing?" said John. "I had him in my sights!"

"They're not the man you're looking for," said Dean.

"I know," said John. "He was killed. This was his nest."

"Not all of them are like that!" Sam told him. "Just because one of them went psycho doesn't mean they all are!"

"These people are innocent," said Dean. "Are you gonna judge them just because they're different?"

"Of course not—" began John.

"Not everything we run into is evil," said Dean. "I mean, Mom was a ghost, but she saved us. These people have been persecuted enough, believe me."

John looked over at Terminal City and back at Dean. "You're sure they're not evil?"

"Positive," said Dean.

John let out a breath, running a hand over his face. "Thank God you boys got to me in time." He looked at them. "It's good to see you."

"You, too," said Dean. He embraced his father.

John pulled away and looked at Sam. "Hey, Sammy. Last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

"Yes, sir," said Sam.

"It's good to see you again," said John. "It's been a long time."

"Too long," said Sam.

John embraced Sam and pulled away. "What do you say we get a motel room for the night?"

"Okay," said Dean.

The three of them began heading for the staircase when Dean felt lightheaded all of a sudden. He stopped and held his arms out, steadying himself.

"You okay, Dean?" asked Sam.

Dean looked up at Sam, the dizziness gone. He smiled. "Yeah, just, uh…it's really high up here."

Sam laughed as they continued on their way.

Dean frowned. _What the hell was that?_

_*************SN**************************_

Dean and Sam got out of the Impala as John got out of his truck. They began heading to the lobby to get a room.

"Don't move!"

Dean, Sam and John spun around to see a man with a gun pointed at them. They froze, watching the man closely.

"Give me your wallets!" said the man.

"Hate to break it to you, but we don't have wallets," said Dean.

"Shut up!" said the man. "Hurry up, or I start shooting!"

Dean glanced at Sam. Sam gave him a look: _Do something._ Dean rolled his eyes.

_I really did not want Dad to find out like this._

Dean blurred to the man, grabbing the gun, and pointed it at the man. The man looked at Dean with wide eyes, and Dean saw realization of what Dean was in those eyes.

"I suggest you run," said Dean.

The man turned and ran. Dean pressed a button on the gun, releasing the magazine, which fell onto the ground. Dean tossed the gun to the side.

"Something you wanna tell me, Dean?" said John. Dean slowly turned to look at him. John had his eyebrows raised. "You're a transgenic?"

Dean frowned. "You know what transgenics are?"

"I was hunting them," said John. "Of course I know what they are. You're one of them?"

Dean smiled tensely. "Surprise."

John shook his head. "No, Mary and I would have known. We're your parents."

"You mean my adoptive parents?" said Dean.

John stared at him. "You know about that?"

Dean chuckled. "How do I **not **know? Manticore made it pretty damn clear from day one that I was adopted."

John frowned. "The whole time…you were…"

"Yeah," said Dean.

"The woman that took you once a year…" said John, "she wasn't your grandmother, was she?"

"No," said Dean.

John looked at Sam, frowning. "You're not freaked by this?"

Sam shrugged, shifting his feet. "Well…"

"You knew about this?" said John.

"Only for the past few days," said Sam.

"Is there anything else I should know?" said John.

Dean shrugged. "Sam's having visions."

Sam turned wide eyes on him. "Dean!"

"Hey, if I'm coming clean, you are too, pal," said Dean.

John looked at Sam. "Visions?"

"Well, sort of," said Sam. "It's dreams…that come true."

"When did this start?" asked John.

"About the time that Jess died," said Sam.

"When were you gonna tell me about this?" John told Dean.

"We didn't know what it meant," said Dean.

"Alright, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me," said John.

Dean looked at him. "Call you? Are you kidding me? Dad, I called you from Lawrence, alright? Sam and I have tried calling you dozens of times. I mean, getting you on the phone, I got a better chance of winning the lottery."

John nodded. "You're right. Although I'm not real crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right. I'm sorry."

"Can we just get a room?" suggested Sam.

"Sure," said John. The three of them headed to the motel lobby.

The clerk nodded at Dean. "Nice job out there."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Let me guess: you don't house transgenics."

"Actually, I don't care," said the clerk.

Dean frowned. "You don't?"

"Yeah, you guys never did anything to me. Why should I hate you?"

Dean smiled gratefully. "Thank you." He turned to Sam and John. "There's hope for this world yet."

They paid for a room and unloaded their bags, settling down. John took the foldout couch while the boys took the beds.

Sam settled under the blankets, looking at Dean. "Wanna borrow my laptop again?"

John frowned at Dean. "It's midnight. Aren't you tired?"

"Transgenics only need, like, one hour of sleep," Dean told him.

John chuckled. "That explains a lot."

Dean looked at Sam. "No, I think I'll read or something. Exhausted my internet interest."

"Alright," said Sam. "Good night."

"Good night," said Dean.

Sam and John settled in for the night. Dean rubbed a hand across his forehead, bringing the hand away with sweat on it.

_What is going on with me? _Dean thought as he lay down on the bed and fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Sam opened his eyes as the sun shone in the window. He looked up to see John ready for the day, folding up the couch. Sam looked over to see Dean asleep on the other bed. Sam sat up and reached over, poking Dean's shoulder.

"Dean," said Sam. Dean didn't respond. Sam got up and leaned over Dean, shaking his shoulder. "Dean."

Dean jolted a little, bringing his hand up to rub at his eyes. "Wha'?"

Sam laughed. "You save sleeping for the last thing?"

Dean peeled his eyelids apart, gazing up at Sam. "Wha' time izit?"

"Seven," said Sam.

Dean frowned, eyes widening. "I slept for seven hours?"

Sam frowned. "You did?" Sam reached a hand forward, laying it on Dean's forehead. Dean weakly batted it away. "Are you okay?"

"'M fine," said Dean.

"Dean, you look like you're dying," said Sam. John walked over next to Sam.

"Gee, thanks," Dean mumbled as he burrowed under the covers. _Damn, it's cold in here._

Sam's eyes widened. "Dean…"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam, it's probably just a virus—a turbo charged virus—but still a virus. I'll be fine."

"Oh, it's a virus, alright," said Sam.

Dean looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Your face," said Sam.

Dean reached up and felt small bumps on his face. He looked down to see the boils breaking out on his arms, too.

"No, no, no," said Dean. "We already took care of this."

"What is it?" asked John.

"A genetically targeted virus," said Sam. "What did you drink yesterday?"

"Nothing," said Dean. "But it's not like last time, it's…" Dean's eyes widened. "Oh, son of a bitch."

"What?" asked Sam.

"Why did I not think of that?" asked Dean.

"What?" said Sam frantically.

"Max's blood," said Dean. "She's got a virus, too."

"She does?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, Manticore put it in her to kill Logan," explained Dean.

"Who's Logan?"

"Her boyfriend."

"And they'd want this Logan dead, why?"

"Because he's Eyes Only."

"Eyes Only from the Streaming Freedom video hacks?"

"Yeah."

"What does this have to do with you?"

"When she did the transfusion, she gave me the antibodies for my virus. But her blood is swimming with her own virus, so she dosed me with it…which means I'm a carrier now and can't touch Logan without killing him. Dammit."

"Carrier?"

"Transgenics have antibodies against these viruses—most of them, anyway. So, she's a carrier without being infected. So, she gave me her virus, but my antibodies fight it off. The antibodies she gave me for my virus can't keep up. I can only fight one at a time. The virus they gave me is coming back."

"What?" exclaimed Sam. "What do I do?"

"Call Max," said Dean. "Tell her to bring Joshua."

"Who's Joshua?" asked Sam as he reached for Dean's phone.

"Another transgenic," said Dean. "We can use his blood."

Sam dialed Max's number, putting it to his ear as he left the room.

"What is it this time?" asked Max.

"Dean's in trouble again," said Sam. "Something about your virus in him now and the antibodies can't fight off both viruses. He's getting sick again."

"What am I supposed to do about it?" asked Max.

"He said something about Joshua being able to help."

"Why would I want to help him? He sure didn't help us."

"He had his reasons."

"Oh, really?"

"He was right: you don't know what happened to him."

"He told you?"

"Yeah."

"Then tell me."

"Okay, first off, you're a hypocrite, you know that? I mean, didn't you leave Manticore with, like, ten other kids, leaving all your people behind at Manticore? And then you scattered and went your separate ways. How is that any different than what Dean did?" Max was silent. "And second, they threatened to kill me if he didn't cooperate. If he didn't obey, they would have killed his father and brother. What would you have done?"

There was silence for a while before Max called into the distance.

"Joshua!" she called. "We have to go, now!"

"Satellite Motel down the road, room eleven," Sam told her. He hung up and returned to the room. "They're coming."

Dean nodded, coughing. In fifteen minutes, there was a knock on the door. Dean weakly looked up at the door, too weak to hardly move. Sam opened the door, revealing Max and Joshua. Sam and John stared at Joshua's canine-like face as they entered.

"He's got canine DNA," Max explained. "He was the first one of us."

Joshua smiled. "Special. First."

Sam held his hand out. "Uh, I'm Sam."

Joshua looked down at Sam's hand and clasped it, shaking it vigorously. "Sam. I'm Joshua."

John stepped forward to introduce himself to the two of them. "John. I'm Sam and Dean's father."

Joshua looked at Max with a confused face. "He's not Father."

Max smiled. "No, he's not our father. He's Sam's father."

"Oh," said Joshua. He looked over at the bed. "Alec!"

Joshua stalked over and threw his arms around Dean. Dean didn't have any strength to do more than pat Joshua weakly on the back.

"Okay, big guy," said Dean. "Easy."

Joshua released Dean, looking down at him. "Where did you go?"

"To find my father," Dean answered.

Joshua's eyes widened. "You find Father?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "No, not Sandman." He weakly pointed at John. "My father."

"Alright, Joshua," said Max, leaning towards Joshua with a needle. Dean hadn't even seen her getting ready. She inserted the needle into Joshua's vein and inserted another into Dean's. As the blood flowed from Joshua's arm into Dean's, Max sat on the bed next to Dean.

"I'm sorry," said Max.

"What for?" said Dean.

"For assuming you were a cold-blooded killer," said Max. "I should've known you were protecting your family."

Dean looked at Sam. "Traitor."

Sam smiled as Dean waited for the blood to kick in.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

"You guys wanna make a run with me to Terminal City?" asked Dean.

Max and Joshua had left five hours ago, and Sam and John were packing the car up.

"Really?" asked Sam. "They'll let us in?"

"Why wouldn't they?" asked Dean. "As long as you guys don't try to hunt them, you'll be fine."

"Okay," said John. "Let's go."

The three of them got into the Impala, driving over to Terminal City. There wasn't a fence blocking off the road since the law was passed, so Dean drove right in. He pulled into the parking garage, parking the Impala. As the three of them got out, a young guy came over.

"Nice car, Alec!" he said.

"Thanks," said Dean. "Mind watching her for me, Zero?"

"Oh, yeah, no problem," said Zero, taking up a tense stance at the driver's door.

Dean shook his head. "At ease, soldier." Zero relaxed and looked at Dean. "It's been four years, kid. You are not a soldier anymore, got it?"

Zero smiled. "Sorry, habit."

"Just watch her, okay?" said Dean.

"Yes, s—" Zero broke off as Dean gave him a look. "Alec."

"That's more like it," said Dean. He headed through the parking garage into the heart of the city. He spotted a blonde girl with a small group. "Hey, Ralph."

"Hi, Alec," Ralph answered.

Dean, Sam and John entered a building. It looked like command central.

"Alec!" someone called. He was tall and had brown scales…all over.

"Mole," Dean greeted.

Mole stood in his way. "What do you want?"

"Gotta talk to Logan," said Dean. He tried to move around Mole, but Mole blocked his path. Dean spread his arms. "What did I do now?"

"How about abandon us?" said Mole.

"Mole, it's alright," said Max, walking up. "He had family to get to."

"Family?" asked Mole.

Dean gestured to Sam and John. "My brother Sammy and my dad John." He looked at Max. "Is Logan here?"

"Finishing up a new Eyes Only hack," said Max.

"He's still doing those?" asked Dean.

"World's still screwed up," said Max, shrugging.

"How's everything going with you two, by the way?" asked Dean.

Max sighed. "We tried to make it work, but with this virus…it's just not possible."

Dean nodded. "Sorry to hear that." There was uncomfortable silence, and they heard a voice from the platform above them.

"This has been a streaming freedom video," said the voice. "Peace…out."

"That's my cue," said Dean, heading up the staircase and motioning for Sam and John to follow him. Dean approached a row of computers, seeing a man sitting in a chair in front of them. "Hey, Logan."

Logan turned, spotting Dean. "Alec. What brings you here?"

"Need some IDs," said Dean. "For the three of us?"

"Fake IDs?" asked Max, approaching them. "What for?"

"It's our job," said Dean. "We need three FBI badges: Agents Dixon, Freeley and Simmons."

"FBI badges?" asked Logan.

"Please don't ask questions," said Dean. "It's a long story."

Logan turned to his computer.

Max looked at Dean. "What's going on, Alec?"

"Okay, let's get one thing straight," said Dean. "You're the one that gave me the name of Alec. My name is Dean, okay?" Max nodded. "Our job requires us to…bend the law, so to speak. We're saving people, okay? It cancels out the lying and subterfuge." Dean leaned against the computer table, hands next to him.

"Oh, it does, huh?" said Max.

"Look who's talking, Miss I-Steal-From-Thieves," said Dean.

"Touché," said Max, smiling.

Logan reached for the computer mouse, which was right next to Dean's hand.

Dean jumped up, yanking his hand away. "Whoa, watch it!"

Logan stared at him. "Why?"

"Max gave me a blood transfusion," said Dean. "I'm officially a Logan-killing machine."

Logan nodded. "Oh, okay." He turned back to his work.

Sam frowned. "Excuse me, I'm gonna make a call." He headed down the staircase, pulling out his phone.

Dean shrugged. "Okay."

"Here you go," said Logan, handing Dean three badges.

"That was fast," said Dean, making sure not to touch Logan's skin as he took the badges.

"It's my job," said Logan.

"Thanks, man," said Dean.

"See you, Al—" Logan caught himself, "Dean."

Dean waved and headed down the stairs with John. Sam joined them, putting his phone away with a smile.

"What's up with you?" asked Sam.

"You might want to get Max to come with us," said Sam.

"Why?" asked Dean.

"I'll tell you later," said Sam.

Dean turned. "Max!"

Max came over. "What?"

"You're coming with us," said Dean.

"Why?" asked Max.

"I think we can help you," said Sam. "Come on." He led the way back to the Impala.

"What's going on?" asked Max.

"No idea," said Dean. He walked to the driver's door. "Thanks, Zero."

"Welcome, Alec," said Zero.

The four of them got into the Impala.

"Where we going?" asked Dean.

"Nebraska," said Sam.

Dean looked at him. "Nebraska?"

"I called a couple of Dad's contacts," said Sam.

"For what?" asked Dean.

"For a way to help Max," said Sam. "One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist."

"Specialist for what?" asked Max.

"Your virus," said Sam.

"Sammy, Max has been down this road dozens of times," said Dean. "She can't be let down again."

"Trust me," said Sam with a smile. "This is the real deal this time."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

**Because I can't just let Roy heal Max. The boys can't just leave the reaper to kill people.**

The Impala pulled up to a large white tent. A group of people, who looked very sick, were making their way towards the tent. Dean got out and saw a sign saying, "The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness the Miracle." Sam got out of the passenger side while Max got out of the back seat.

"Man, you are a lying bastard," said Dean. "Thought you said we were going to see a doctor."

"I believe I said a specialist," said Sam. "Look, Dean, this guy's supposed to be the real deal."

"I can't believe you brought Max here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent," said Dean.

An elderly woman passed by in front of them. "Reverend LeGrange is a great man."

"Yeah, that's nice," said Dean. The three of them walked past an angry man who was talking to a sheriff.

"I have a right to protest," said the man. "This man is a fraud. And he's bilking all these people out of their hard-earned money."

"Sir, this is a place of worship," said the sheriff. "Let's go. Move it."

"I take it he's not part of the flock," said Max.

"But when people see something they can't explain, there's controversy," said Sam.

"I mean, come on, Sam, a faith healer?" said Dean.

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean," said Sam.

"You know what I've got faith in? Reality. Knowing what's really going on."

"How can you be a skeptic? With the things we see every day?"

"Exactly. We see them, we know they're real."

"But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe good's out there, too?"

"Because I've seen what evil does to good people."

The three of them came to a stop outside the tent.

"Maybe God works in mysterious ways," said a blonde woman in front of them, turning to them.

Dean smiled. "Maybe he does." The woman smiled. "I think you just turned me around on the subject."

She laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Dean extended his hand. "I'm Dean. This is Sam."

She shook his hand. "Layla. So, if you're not a believer, then why are you here?"

"Well, apparently my brother here believes enough for the three of us," said Dean.

A woman walked over to them. "Come on, Layla. It's about to start." They said goodbye and left.

"Well, I bet you she can work in some mysterious ways," said Dean.

Max rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me she's a unique creature unlike any other."

Dean glared at her, sighing. "When will you ever give it a rest?"

Sam smiled, and they went into the tent. A large group of people were sitting down, waiting for the service to begin. Dean gestured to a security camera on the wall.

"Yeah, peace, love and trust all over," said Dean. Sam and Max looked up at it. Sam noticed that the both of them adjusted their jackets—or hair—to make sure the barcodes were covered. Dean went to sit down in the back.

"Come on," said Sam.

"What are you doing?" said Dean. "Let's sit here."

"We're sitting up front," said Sam.

"What?" said Max. "Why?"

"Come on," said Sam.

"Oh, come on, Sam," said Dean. "This is ridiculous."

Sam pointed to three empty seats behind Layla and her mother. "Perfect."

"Yeah, perfect," said Max.

"You take the aisle," Sam told Max. The three of them sat down.

Roy Legrange got onto the stage. He wore sunglasses, signaling that he was blind. "Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?" The crowd agreed with him. "Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act."

Sam noticed a table filled with crosses and other religious items. He saw an old cross that had another smaller cross on top with a circle around it.

"But, I say to you, God is watching," said Roy. "God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt." The crowd answered with lots of nodding, cheering, and murmuring. "Who does the healing here, friends? The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts." The crowd murmured.

"Yeah, or into their wallets," Dean muttered to Sam.

"You think so, young man?" asked Roy. The church went silent.

Dean was embarrassed. "Sorry."

"No, no," said Roy. "Don't be. Just watch what you say around a blind man, we've got real sharp ears." The crowd laughed. "What's your name, son?"

Dean hesitated. "Dean."

"Dean," said Roy. "I want—I want you to come up here with me." Sue Ann got up on the stage to welcome Dean. The crowd clapped and cheered.

"No, that's okay," said Dean.

"You've come here to be healed, haven't you?" asked Roy.

"No, actually, my friend Max did," said Dean.

"No, maybe you should just pick someone else," said Max, not wanting to be picked over the much sicker people there. The crowd clapped loudly.

"Oh, no, I didn't pick you, Max, the Lord did," said Roy. The crowd clapped and cheered.

Sam looked at Max. "Get up there!" Max reluctantly went on the stage, looking very uncomfortable.

"You ready?" asked Roy.

"Look, no disrespect, but I don't really believe in the supernatural," said Max.

"You will, child," said Roy with a smile. "You will. Pray with me, friends." The crowd lifted their arms up and joined hands with each other. Roy lifted up his hands and placed one on Max's shoulder. Dean and Sam both looked nervous. Roy moved his hand to Max's forehead. Max's eyes glazed over. "Alright, now. Alright, now." Max started to look very weak and dizzy. Her eyes closed, and she fell to her knees. "Alright, now." Max collapsed on the floor. The crowd cheers and claps.

"Max!" Dean yelled. He rushed onto the stage and shook Max. Max suddenly burst awake, gasping for breath. "Say something."

Max looked around, tired. She saw an old, seemingly dead man standing on the stage next to Roy. He was dressed in a black suit and had white hair. He looked at Max and then vanished. Max looked shocked.

***********SN**************

"So, you really feel okay?" Sam asked Max as she sat on an exam table in the hospital.

Max looked up at him. "Well, I didn't feel bad in the first place. I can't tell if I'm healed or not."

A doctor came into the room with some paperwork. "Well, according to all your tests, there's nothing wrong with your blood work. No sign there ever was." Max looked curious while Sam looked very happy and Dean looked suspicious. "Not that a woman your age should be having immune problems, but, still it's strange. It does happen."

"What do you mean, strange?" asked Dean.

"Well, just yesterday, a young girl like her, twenty-five, athletic. Out of nowhere, virus attack."

Dean looked concerned. "Thanks, Doc."

"Oh, no problem," said the doctor.

"That's odd," said Max.

"Maybe it's a coincidence," said Sam. "People get sick all the time."

"No, they don't," said Dean.

"Look, Dean, do we really have to look this one in the mouth?" said Sam. "Why can't we just be thankful that the guy cured Max and move on?"

"Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why," said Max.

"What feeling?" asked Dean.

"When I was healed, I just—I felt wrong," said Max. "I felt cold. And for a second, I saw someone. This, uh, this old man. But then he just vanished."

"A spirit?" asked Dean. "That makes sense."

"But if there was something there, Dean, I think we would've seen it, too," said Sam. "I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately."

"Well, excuse me, psychic wonder," said Dean. "But you're just gonna need a little faith on this one. Sam, I've been hunting long enough to trust a feeling like this." He motioned to Max.

"Yeah, alright," said Sam. "So, what do you wanna do?"

"I want you to go check out the virus girl," said Dean. "We're gonna visit the reverend."

********************SN********************

Dean and Max entered the motel room later to find Sam at his laptop, looking upset.

"What'd you find out?" asked Max.

"I'm sorry," said Sam.

"Sorry about what?" asked Max.

"Megan Hall died at 4:17," said Sam.

"The exact time Max was healed," said Dean.

"Yeah," said Sam. "So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits." He handed Dean a pile of research. "Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time."

"Someone's healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?" asked Max.

"Somehow," said Sam. "LeGrange—he's trading a life for another."

"Wait, wait, wait," said Max. "So, Megan Hall died to cure me?"

"Max, the guy probably would've died anyway," said Sam. "And someone else would've been healed."

"You never should've brought us here," said Dean.

"Dean, I was just trying to help Max," said Sam.

"But, Sam, some girl is dead now because of us," said Dean.

"I didn't know," said Sam. "The thing I don't understand is how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?"

"Oh, he's not doing it," said Dean. "Something else is doing it for him."

"What do you mean?" asked Max.

"The old man you saw on stage," said Dean. "I didn't wanna believe it, but deep down I knew it."

"You knew what?" asked Sam. "What are you talking about?"

"There's only one thing that can give and take life like that," said Dean. "We're dealing with a reaper."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

**Alec/Max fans are really not going to like the end of this chapter. Sorry, but I had to stay true to the show. I would really love to see Max and Alec together, too. Too bad.**

"You really think it's _the_ Grim Reaper?" asked Sam. "Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?"

"No, no, no," said Dean. "Not _the_ Reaper, _a_ reaper. There's reaper lore in pretty much every culture on Earth. Go by a hundred different names. It's possible that there's more than one of them."

"But I saw a dude in a suit," said Max.

"Well, what, do you think he should've been working the whole black robe thing?" asked Dean. He looked at Sam. "You said it yourself that the clock stopped, right?" He held up a piece of paper with a reaper on it. "Reapers stop time. And you can only see them when they're coming at you, which is why Max could see it and we couldn't."

"Maybe," said Sam.

"There's nothing else it could be, Sam," said Dean. "The question is how's Roy controlling the damn thing?"

"That cross," said Sam.

"What?" asked Dean.

"There was this cross," said Sam. "I noticed it in the church tent. I knew I had seen it before." He shuffled through a stack of tarot cards and picked one. It depicted a skeleton with a crown on its head. The cross was in the corner of the picture. He showed it to Dean. "Here."

"A tarot?" asked Dean.

"It makes sense," said Sam. "I mean, tarot dates back to the early Christian era, right? When some priests were still using magic? And a few of them veered into the dark stuff. Necromancy, and how to push death away, how to cause it."

"So, Roy is using black magic to bind the reaper?" asked Dean.

"Oh, great, more cult crap," muttered Max.

"If he is, he's riding the whirlwind," said Sam. "It's like putting a dog leash on a Great White."

Dean stopped to think. "Okay, then we stop Roy."

"How?" asked Sam.

"You know how," said Dean.

"Wait, what the hell are you talking about, Dean?" said Sam. "We can't kill Roy."

"Sam, the guy's playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies, that's a monster in my book," said Dean.

"No, we're not gonna kill a human being, Alec," said Max. Dean gave her a look. "I mean, Dean. We do that, we're no better than he is."

"Okay, so we can't kill Roy, we can't kill death," said Dean. "Any bright ideas, college boy?"

"Okay, uh, if Roy is using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we've gotta figure out what it is," said Sam. "And how to break it."

******************SN*********************

The Impala pulled up outside the white tent, and the three of them climbed out.

"If Roy is using a spell, there might be a spell book," said Sam.

"See if you two can find it," said Dean. He checked his watch. "Hurry up, too, the service starts in fifteen minutes. I'll try to stall Roy."

"Alright," said Sam. They walked by the man who was protesting. He was handing out flyers.

"Roy LeGrange is a fraud," said the man. "He's no healer."

"Amen, brother," said Dean.

"You keep up the good word," said Sam.

"Thank you," said the man.

Sam and Max snuck around to the front of the house and climbed in through a window.

"Okay, what exactly are we looking for?" asked Max.

"Not sure," said Sam. "We'll just have to see."

They went into Roy's library. Sam began looking through the books on the shelves. He noticed that all the untouched books had a layer of dust on the shelf. He came across a book that was not coated with dust. It was the Encyclopedia of Christian History. Sam pulled it out and flipped through it.

"There's something there," said Max, pointing to the bookshelf.

Sam looked at the shelf and noticed a smaller book behind the space where the encyclopedia was. "Good eye."

Sam flipped through the smaller book and saw a picture of a reaper on one page. He flipped back one page and saw a picture of the cross from the church. Sam found a few newspaper clippings between the pages of the small book. The first was a headline about an openly gay teacher sending a strong message to the nation's schools.

"That's Megan Hall," said Max.

The next headline read "Local Abortion Rights Advocate Calls For End To Violence Against Women."

"And that's the woman that died yesterday," said Sam. He found a third newspaper clipping, which was about the parking lot protestor, David Wright, calling Roy's church a cult. "This is not good."

"What is it?" asked Max.

"Come on," said Sam. They ran out to the parking lot as Sam pulled out his cell phone.

"What do you got?" asked Dean on the other line.

"Roy's choosing victims he sees as immoral," said Sam. "And I think I know who's next on his list. Remember that protestor?"

"The guy in the parking lot?" asked Dean.

"Yeah," said Sam. "Yeah, I'll find him. But you can't let Roy heal anyone, alright?" He hung up, and the two of them began looking for David.

"Help!" a man called in the distance. Sam looked over at Max for direction.

"Over there," said Max, pointing to their left. They rushed toward the sound, finding David cowering against a car.

"Help!" yelled David. "Help me, please!" Sam and Max looked around for some sign of the reaper, Max taking a fighting stance in front of David.

"Where is it?" asked Sam.

David pointed at a spot in front of them between two cars. "It's right there!"

"Alright, come on!" said Sam. The three of them started running away. Sam's cell phone rang, and he answered it. The three of them stopped. David looked much calmer.

"I did it," said Dean. "I stopped Roy."

"David, I think it's okay," said Sam. David nodded at Sam. When he turned back around, his eyes widened.

"No!" David said. He began collapsing to his knees.

"Dean, it didn't work!" said Sam, at a loss as to what to do. "The reaper's still coming!" David fell to the ground, his face losing its color quickly. "I'm telling you! I'm telling you, it must not have worked. Roy must not be controlling this thing!"

"Well, then who the hell is?" asked Dean. Max and Sam watched as David fell to his back. "Sue Ann." Sam hung up the phone, watching for something to happen.

David's face colored, and he began breathing calmer. Sam helped David up.

"I got ya," said Sam.

"Thank God," David gasped.

*******************SN********************

"So Roy really believes?" asked Max. They were in the motel room again.

"I don't think he has any idea what his wife's doing," said Dean.

"Well, I found this hidden in their library," said Sam. He showed Dean the small book he found.

"Excuse me, who found it?" said Max.

Sam cleared his throat. "**We **found it. It's ancient. Written by a priest who went dark side. There's a binding spell in here for trapping a reaper."

Dean looked through the book. "Must be a hell of a spell."

"Yeah," said Sam. "You've got to build a black altar, with seriously dark stuff. Bones, human blood. To cross the line like that, that preacher's wife. Black magic, murder. Evil."

"Desperate," said Dean. "Her husband was dying, she'd have done anything to save him. She was using the binding spell to keep the reaper away from Roy."

"Cheating death," said Max. "Literally."

"Yeah, but Roy's alive, so why's she still using the spell?" asked Dean.

"Right," said Sam. "To force the reaper to kill people she thinks are immoral."

"May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work," said Dean.

"We've gotta break that binding spell, Dean," said Sam.

Dean noticed the picture of the cross in the tent. "You know, Sue Ann had a Coptic cross like this. And when she dropped it, the reaper backed off."

"So, you think we've gotta find the cross or destroy the altar?" asked Sam.

"Maybe both?" said Dean. "Whatever we do, we better do it soon. Roy's healing Layla tonight."

******************SN**********************

The Impala pulled up to the tent, and they sat in the car, looking at the parking lot.

"That's Layla's car," said Sam. "She's already here."

"Yeah," said Max half-heartedly.

"Max," said Sam.

"You know, if Roy would have picked Layla instead of me, she'd be healed right now," said Max.

"Max, don't," said Sam.

"And if she's not healed tonight, she's gonna die in a couple months," said Dean.

"What's happening to her is horrible," said Sam. "But, what are you gonna do? Let somebody else die to save her? You said it yourself, Dean. You can't play God." Dean and Max were silent.

They got out and walked over to the tent, watching the people assemble.

"Where's Sue Ann?" asked Dean.

"House," said Sam. They walked over to the house.

"Go find Sue Ann," said Dean. "I'll catch up."

"What are you—" began Sam. Dean went around to the front of the house and saw the two sheriffs from the service. Sam hid beside the house while Max went to back Dean up.

"Hey," said Dean. "You gonna put that fear of God in me?"

The two of them ran away, and the sheriffs started chasing them. When they were gone, Sam went onto the porch and looked around the outside of the house. He found a cellar and walked down into it. He found Sue Ann's black altar. It was covered with crosses, blood, bones and candles. In the middle of the altar was a picture of Max, taken from the church's security camera. There was an X across her face, written in blood.

"I gave your friend life, and I can take it away," said Sue Ann, standing behind Sam.

Sam turned around and saw her. He overturned the altar, and Sue Ann went outside and locked the cellar door with a metal bar. She talked to him from outside while he tried to open the door.

"Sam, can't you see?" said Sue Ann. "The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked. And your friend is wicked. And she deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It's God's will." Sam tried to open a small window in the cellar. "Goodbye, Sam." Sue Ann left. Sam used a bar to open the window.

***********************SN*************************

Dean and Max were walking through the parking lot, having ditched the cops, when the lights all went out. Max turned and saw the reaper standing a few feet away.

"Oh, crap," said Max.

"What?" asked Dean.

"It's the reaper," said Max, pointing over where she could see him.

"Son of a bitch," said Dean.

The reaper put his hand on the side of Max's face, and she groaned in pain. She fell to her knees, and the color began to drain from her face as she gasped for breath. Dean tried to take swings at the air in front of Max, but nothing happened.

"Dammit!" Dean yelled. "Let her go!"

The reaper suddenly took his hand off of Max's face. Max gasped for breath as the color returned to her face. She watched the reaper disappear.

"You okay?" asked Dean, kneeling in front of her.

"Yeah," said Max. "I'm fine." Dean helped Max back to the Impala, where Sam walked up to them.

"You okay?" Sam asked Max.

"A little bit weak," said Max.

"Yeah," said Sam. "Alright, come on, we should get going." The three of them got into the car, heading back to Terminal City.

*************************SN********************************

Dean, Sam and Max walked into the command center of Terminal City. Max had a huge smile on her face as she walked up the platform to Logan.

Logan turned and saw her walking towards him. "What are you so happy about?"

Max kept walking towards him, and his eyes widened as he saw that she was going to touch him. Max threw her arms around him, hugging him close. Her face was right next to his, touching skin to skin.

"What are you doing?" Logan exclaimed as he gently shoved Max away from him, taking his hands away with wide eyes. He touched his face, expecting to feel the boils breaking out. He frowned. "Nothing's happening." Max's smile widened. "I don't feel feverish or light-headed. What's going on?"

Max couldn't look more happy if she'd just won the lottery and transgenics were deemed human in society's eyes. "That's why I was away for a few days. I'm cured!"

Logan's eyes widened. "Cured?"

"Yeah," said Max. "Sam and Dean found a faith healer, and he cured me of the virus. I'm cured!"

Logan smiled widely. "Really?"

"Yeah," said Max. She threw herself into Logan's arms and planted a passionate kiss on Logan's lips.

"Okay," said Dean. "I'm getting a little grossed out. We'll be going now."

Max broke away from Logan. "Thank you so much, Dean."

Dean looked back at her. "You didn't call me Alec."

"Well, when you do something that nice for someone, they tend to do you favors," said Max.

Logan walked over to Dean, about to grab his hand. Dean moved away from him, lifting his hands. Logan seemed to realize what he'd almost done and settled for a grateful smile at Dean. "Thank you, Dean. This is amazing. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, man," said Dean. "Good luck, you two."

As Dean and Sam left the command center, they could hear Max and Logan's laughter.

"And that's an image I could've lived without," said Dean. Sam laughed as they headed back to the Impala.

****************************SN*********************************

Dean and Sam pulled up to the motel John had been staying at, parking the Impala. There was a sound of a crack, and Dean spun around, lifting his hand to catch a baseball that had been heading for his head.

A little boy ran over. "Whoa, nice catch!"

"Thanks, man," said Dean, handing over the baseball. The boy ran back to the game across the street.

Sam smiled. "Nice." They headed into the motel.

John looked up from the table. "Hey, everything go okay?"

"Yep," said Dean. "Reaper's toast."

"Well, not literally," said Sam. "But we did get the binding spell reversed."

"Good," said John. "I got another hunt in Arizona. We leave tomorrow morning. Get some sleep."

*****************************SN************************

The motel manager quietly unlocked the motel door, sneaking into the room. He approached the short-haired man asleep in one of the beds. He lay on his back, eyes closed.

_Oh, man,_ the manager thought. _How am I supposed to tell now?_

The young man shifted in his sleep, rolling onto his side away from the manager. The manager peered closely at the man's neck: a barcode.

_I knew it!_

The manager stared hatefully at the transgenic scum.

_How dare he come here and steal my business away from me._

Something had to be done.

*************************SN**************************

Sam opened his eyes, sitting up in bed. He looked over at Dean's bed, not surprised to find it empty. The bathroom door was open and empty.

_He must've made a run for coffee and breakfast._

Sam climbed out of bed, grabbing his soap and shampoo. He passed the front window, heading for the bathroom. The view out the window seems unremarkable, but something appeared irksome. Not being able to point it out, Sam continued on his way. He was halfway through his shower when that irksome detail hit Sam: the Impala was parked in front of the room.

Sam jumped out of the shower, not bothering to turn off the water, and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist. He darted out of the bathroom and to the window. True enough, the Impala sat in front of the building. The nearest store was a good fifteen minutes from the motel. Sure, Dean could run fast, but he was making a food run. He would need the Impala…which obviously was not with its owner.

Sam shot over to the bedside table, picking up his phone. He dialed Dean's cell, hoping he was out maybe just for a morning run while John and Sam slept. The voice that met Sam's ear chilled him to the bone.

"The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service."

Sam dropped the phone and rushed to John, shaking him.

"What is it?" asked John, frowning at Sam's fresh-out-of-the-shower appearance.

"Dean's missing," Sam told him.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

**And thanks to the fan that pointed out Dean still had the virus. I fixed the previous chapter. Thank you so much! I don't know what I'd do without those reviews.**

**One week later…**

Dean stumbled through the woods, making his way from tree to tree. His body was screaming at him to stop, but he knew he couldn't. He needed to get to Sammy. His bare feet stung and ached from the rocky ground covered in sticks. His right leg limped along, blood coating his lower leg and foot. He held his left arm close to his chest, careful not to move it. His muscles ached and moved sluggishly from lack of nourishment. His head swam from blood loss. His throat scratched from lack of water. The cold night wind bit at his skin due to his missing clothes. He couldn't even feel his fingers and toes anymore.

Dean stumbled on a rock, falling to his knees. He yelled as his right leg protested the rough landing. He tried to pull himself to his feet, but the pull of gravity was too much. He collapsed onto his chest, rolling over onto his back as darkness fell over his mind.

********************SN*********************************

Isabelle Martin ran out the door of her cabin, looking into the darkness. She was certain she'd heard someone yelling. She couldn't see anyone, but she could feel that something was wrong. She went back inside, heading for her German Shepherd. She let him out the front door, and he raced into the night. She followed in close pursuit. The German Shepherd, Bosco, sniffed the forest floor, searching for the mystery yeller. Isabelle lost sight of him and waited, listening.

Bosco barked from her right, and Isabelle darted through the trees, finding her dog. Bosco stood over a naked young man, standing guard.

"Holy…" said Isabelle.

She knelt over the man, who was out cold. And no wonder. It looked like he'd lost a lot of blood. The soles of his feet were scraped, probably from the run through the woods. The bullet wound was in his right shin, blood soaking below the wound. Bruises littered the skin over his legs, arms, torso and face. Lacerations, most of them deep, split the skin among the bruises. His left shoulder was misshapen, probably dislocated.

Isabelle placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sir?"

The man didn't respond. Isabelle moved around to his head and hooked her arms under his. As she pulled him up, she spotted several things: more cuts and bruises on his back and a barcode on his neck.

_He's a transgenic,_ Isabelle realized.

Isabelle looked at her dog. "Bosco, help."

Bosco moved over to the man's feet, nudging his nose under the legs. The man's legs slid onto Bosco's back, and the two of them slowly carried the man back to the cabin.

Isabelle set him on the couch, pulling a quilt out and laying it over him. She hurried to the kitchen and filled a glass of water. She went back to the couch and eased the man's head up. She held the glass to his lips and tilted it back slightly to test his swallow reflex. The man's throat instantly moved as he swallowed the small water.

Isabelle instantly tipped more water into his mouth, which he swallowed. Isabelle lay his head back down on the pillows and headed to get some medical supplies. She came back and wet a washcloth, bringing it to the man's face to clean the blood and dirt away.

A hand grabbed her wrist as another grabbed her throat. She hadn't even seen the man move. It was more of a blur. The man had hold of her wrist in his left hand and her throat in his right. He was staring at her with wide eyes, jaw tight. His hand wasn't closing around her throat, but the position of his hand made clear the fact that he could—and would—tighten it if he needed to. He looked intimidating, but Isabelle could also sense his fear…fear that she would hurt him.

"Relax," Isabelle told him. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I don't care if you're a transgenic. I won't hurt you."

The man stared at her for another few seconds before looking down at his grip on her throat. He seemed to come to himself and quickly released her throat. He glanced at the washcloth in her hand and released her wrist. He relaxed onto the couch cushions.

"Sorry," he said. His voice was deep and rough; he needed more water.

"No need to be sorry," Isabelle said. "What's your name?"

The man watched her warily, still unsure of her. "Dean."

She smiled. "Hi, Dean. I'm Isabelle."

Dean watched as Isabelle placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Will you let me help you?" Isabelle asked gently. Dean nodded, and Isabelle turned away from him. "Alright, this might hurt a little." She turned back to him with a needle.

Dean's eyes widened a little as his mind flashed back to that awful place.

"_This might hurt a little," said the man._

_He ripped into Dean's chest with his knife._

Dean jolted on the couch, pushing away from Isabelle.

"No!" Dean yelled. "Don't touch me!"

His left shoulder screamed in agony, and his leg burned as he moved. He pressed into the back of the couch.

"It's okay," Isabelle quickly coaxed. "I won't hurt you. But you're bleeding I need to stitch your chest up."

Dean glanced down at the blanket covering him. Blood was welling up on the blanket. Dean glanced at the medical supplies next to Isabelle. He relaxed as he began breathing again.

"Can I start?" asked Isabelle.

Dean shakily nodded and pulled the quilt down to uncover his torso. She slowly moved the needle and thread towards Dean so he could watch her. When she began stitching up his gashes, Dean finally relaxed on the couch, realizing she wouldn't really hurt him. The needle stung as it penetrated his skin, but it was a good hurt. It meant everything was being fixed.

As Isabelle worked, she talked to Dean.

"So…hunting accident?" asked Isabelle. "Although from the lack of clothes, I doubt it." She paused while Dean looked away. "Someone hurt you because you're a transgenic, didn't they?" Dean looked at her quickly, eyes wide. "It was kind of obvious."

Dean looked down. "Yeah." Isabelle taped some gauze over the stitches. "You meet people like you and think everything's gonna be okay. But then…"

Dean looked down at his hands, feeling defeated. Suddenly, Isabelle leaned down and wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm sorry," Isabelle told him sincerely.

Dean lay there for a few seconds before wrapping his good right arm around her, accepting the comfort. The aftermath of everything began falling down on him, and he could feel the want—the need—to break down coming on. He took several deep breaths to stop the tears, or sobs, or both from starting.

_I can't let myself deal yet. I need Sammy._

Isabelle pulled away from Dean, keeping her hands on his shoulder. "You don't have to put up an act, Dean." Dean frowned, wondering how she could have known. "Whoever you're trying to hold out for…they're not here. It's just you and me. You don't have to be brave."

Dean really didn't want to be weak in front of this woman, but—what the hell—he was humiliated and beaten and broken on her couch…and that's when the week's events really hit him. He'd been tortured…for hours upon hours, days upon days…all because of a hate crime.

The tears began rolling down Dean's face as he collapsed into the couch, looking for some form of comfort, something he could cling to, to keep him anchored here. And suddenly, it was there. Isabelle enveloped him in her embrace, and he clung desperately to her like a drowning man clings to fresh air. For that was what he was: a man drowning in his despair.

After what seemed like hours, Dean's sobs died down, and his eyes finally ran out of water. Isabelle pulled away, smiling at him.

"Feel better?" she asked.

"Much," said Dean, wiping the tears from his face.

"Can I finish?" asked Isabelle. Dean nodded. "I'm gonna fix your shoulder. From the looks of things, your humerus popped out of the socket in the scapula." Dean turned wide eyes onto her. "I'm a nurse."

"Oh," said Dean. "Lucky me."

"Alright, how do you wanna do this?" asked Isabelle. Dean grabbed her hand and put it to his left shoulder, bracing himself against her. "You sure?"

Dean laughed. "Believe me, this sting is the least of my worries right now."

Isabelle put her left hand against his other shoulder to immobilize him. "One…two…" She pushed his left shoulder back, hearing a pop emit from it.

Dean groaned as he gripped the shoulder with his right hand. "Oh, man…"

"Now I need to stitch up your back," said Isabelle.

Dean used his good arm to roll onto his side, exposing his back to her. She set to work immediately, cleaning the skin and wounds. Dean hissed and groaned occasionally at the sting.

"Man, these are really infected," said Isabelle. "Any longer and you could've gotten sepsis."

"I'll continue to count my blessings, then," said Dean.

Isabelle laughed. "You have a way with humor, you know that?"

"Maybe you can tell my friend Max," said Dean. "She doesn't believe me."

Isabelle laughed again, beginning to stitch the lacerations and searching for something to take up the time. "Is Max a transgenic also?"

"Yean," said Dean. "She's a real tight ass, though. She was part of the group of kids that broke out, like, fifteen years ago. She's been in the real world longer than the rest of us. So, of course, she's automatically the boss. Not that I'd change that. I mean, better her than me. But she kind of gets this self-righteous attitude sometimes. It's kind of annoying."

"Where is she now?"

"Probably shacking up with Logan back at Terminal City. After five years, they're finally getting a change…about time."

"Do you guys have family? How does that work?"

"Well, technically, we're all kind of siblings. But, no, we don't have any family. Except me."

"You have family?"

"Adoptive. A father and younger brother."

"What are their names?"

"John. My brother's name is Sam. I call him Sammy." Dean smiled. "He hates it when I do that."

Isabelle taped some gauze onto his back. "Alright, done." Dean rolled back over onto his back. "Now, I need to wash you off, you know, down there."

Dean stared up at her. "What?"

"Dean, you're filthy. You could get an infection. Do you really want that?"

"You are **not **washing me."

"You can't get up to get to a shower or a bath. This is your last choice."

"But—"

"Dean, I'm a nurse. You don't know how many baths I've given in my work. I've had to wash old guys who are as shriveled as the dead. I'm sure you've got nothing to worry about. Besides, I was the one who found you and brought you inside. I've already seen everything."

"In my defense, it was freezing out there," said Dean. Isabelle laughed. Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine, just make it quick."

Isabelle lifted the bottom half of the blanket, exposing him to the room. Dean felt about as low as you could get.

Dean groaned. "This is humiliating."

"Relax. It'll be over before you know it. And you'll feel better."

Isabelle quickly took the washcloth to him, cleaning the dirt off his skin. She replaced the blanket. "Done."

Dean looked up at her in surprise. "Already?"

"I told you that you had nothing to worry about."

"How about we get to my bullet wound?"

"I'm gonna have to cauterize it."

"Whatever. Just do it."

Isabelle put the poker in the fire, letting it heat up. She came back to the couch. "I bet you're used to this."

Dean looked up at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Field med," said Isabelle.

"Oh, yeah," said Dean. "I am."

"Alright, hold on," said Isabelle. She got up and took her belt off. She sat back down and handed the belt to Dean. "I trust you know what to do with it."

"All too much," said Dean, putting it between his teeth as Isabelle reached for the tweezers.

Isabelle dug into Dean's shin, pulling the bullet out as he moaned. She threw the bullet on the floor and reached for the fire poker. She knelt on the couch, one knee on each side of Dean's right leg to hold it still. She positioned the hot poker above his leg.

"Ready?" asked Isabelle.

Dean nodded, clenching his hands in the cushions under him. Isabelle pressed the tip of the poker into the wound. Dean yelled into the gag, slamming his eyes closed and grimacing. Isabelle took the poker away.

"Done," said Isabelle. Dean opened his eyes as the burn went away. He opened his hands, letting the cushions go. "You okay?"

Dean rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw. "Define okay." Isabelle laughed. The German Shepherd walked up to Dean and began licking his face. Dean laughed and pet the dog with his right hand. "Who's this?"

"This is Bosco," said Isabelle. "He found you and helped me bring you inside."

Dean smiled at her and then looked at the dog, petting him behind the ears. "Thank you."

Isabelle smiled. "How about we get you some food?"

Dean's face lit up. "Oh, yes, please."

Isabelle chuckled. "When was the last time you ate?"

"About…seven days ago," said Dean.

Isabelle's eyes widened. "What? Why didn't you say anything?"

"We can go six days without food. It's not pretty, but we can."

Isabelle got off the couch, talking to Dean as she moved around the kitchen. "So, I have to start you out with clear liquids for a couple hours. Then you can eat regular food." Isabelle came back to Dean with a bowl of broth, jello and apple juice.

Dean looked at the food choices. "Really?"

"Doctor's orders," said Isabelle as she helped him eat.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

**Sorry for the delay. It was the last two weeks of semester and then I wanted to really work on my book (which I got a lot done on). But then I realized how long I'd gone without updating, and the next chapter was just sitting in my notebook. Here ya go!**

Dean eased himself up to a sitting position, taking a moment to catch his breath.

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" asked Isabelle, rushing over to him.

"I got things to do," said Dean.

"No, you don't," said Isabelle. "You just got here last night."

"I'll be fine," said Dean.

"Have you seen yourself?"

"Transgenics heal fast, trust me."

"But—"

"Look, my dad and my brother are probably worried sick looking for me. I gotta get back to them."

Isabelle nodded. "Fine."

"I don't suppose you'd have some spare clothes?"

Isabelle disappeared into her bedroom. While Isabelle was rummaging around her drawers, Dean frowned, looking down at his hands. They were beginning to tremble a little.

"Dammit," said Dean. "How can a multi-million dollar government operation overlook something as simple as serotonin?"

He clasped his hands together, trying to stop the tremors. Isabelle walked back into the room with a pair of baggy jeans, a gray T-shirt, a hunting jacket, a pair of socks and some old boots.

"Sorry if it's a little small," said Isabelle.

"It's better than nothing," said Dean. "Just leave them here, and I'll change."

"Oh, no, I'm helping."

"What?"

"I'm letting you go. The least you can do is let me make sure you don't hurt yourself."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Isabelle helped him ease on the jeans under the blanket, which turned out to be only a little tight. She helped him get the shirt on so he didn't tear the stitches. Next were the socks and boots, then the jacket.

"Here," said Isabelle, putting a sling on Dean's left arm. "Use that for the rest of the day. Keep you from moving it too much."

"Thanks," said Dean.

Isabelle looked at the arm under the sling, noticing the tremors. "What's wrong?"

"What?" asked Dean.

"You're shaking," said Isabelle.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah. Transgenics have a serotonin deficiency. You wouldn't happen to have any milk, would you?"

"Sorry," said Isabelle. "No milk in the house. Lactose intolerant."

"It's okay," said Dean. "I'll just get some milk when I get to town. It's not like it's life-threatening or anything. I still have a while before the real seizures start in." He stood up, letting his body get used to the change in position. He moved toward the bathroom, noticing a limp on his right leg.

_Probably have that for a few days._

Isabelle followed him to the bathroom door.

"Look, I need to do this part on my own," said Dean.

"Oh, right, sorry," said Isabelle, waiting outside while he used the bathroom.

Dean walked out of the bathroom. "Which direction is the nearest town?"

"Due south," said Isabelle. "Only five minutes away."

Dean smiled and leaned forward, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"What was that for?" asked Isabelle.

"My brother," said Dean. "He'd want me to give you a thank you." He leaned forward and captured her lips with his, giving her a passionate kiss. "And that was from me. Thank you."

"I'm glad I could help," said Isabelle, blushing a little. She walked with him to the front porch. "Are you sure you can handle this?"

"It's only a five minute walk," said Dean. "I've gone longer before…much longer."

"Okay," said Isabelle, giving his good shoulder a squeeze. "Good luck." She slipped a piece of paper into his hand. "Listen, give me a call when you're settled."

"Will do," said Dean. "Thanks again." He set off into the woods, pausing a little ways away to wave goodbye.

Dean reached the town, wondering just how he was supposed to find his father and brother. They had most certainly left the motel to find him, and Dean now had no way to find them. The only option he had left was the GPS in their phones.

************SN*********************

Dean walked out of the library, carrying the paper he'd printed out from the computer. He headed for the hotel the GPS said his brother's phone was. He only hoped his brother was home. He thought about heading to a gas station to get some milk, but he had absolutely no cash on him. And he didn't really feel like trashing the transgenic name any further by stealing. He just didn't have the strength to do it, anyway. He needed his brother more.

Dean walked up to the motel door, favoring his left leg. He raised a shaky hand and knocked on the door, trying to subdue his tremors. The door was pulled open, and Sam's eyes widened.

"Dean?" said Sam. He surged forward and wrapped his arms tight around Dean.

Dean winced as his left shoulder protested. "Okay…dislocated shoulder."

Sam immediately backed off, looking Dean up and down. "What the hell happened to you? Where were you? Did someone hurt you?"

"One question at a time, Sam," said Dean, limping into the room.

Sam quickly closed the door and helped Dean into a chair. "Where were you?"

Dean looked down at the floor, flashing back to that awful place. "Somewhere I never want to be again."

Sam looked at the bruises on Dean's face, the sling on his left shoulder, the lacerations on his arms… "What the hell happened?"

Dean clenched his jaw, staring at the floor. After a moment, he looked around the room. "Where's Dad?"

"Out making another search for you," said Sam. "Which reminds me." He pulled out his cell phone, dialing their father's cell. "Dad, get back to the hotel. Dean's here." Sam quickly hung up, looking back at Dean,w hose shoulder were beginning to shake a little more violently. "Are you okay?"

"I haven't had any milk in a week," said Dean as his limbs began to very noticeably quake and seize.

Sam's eyes widened. "There's a breakfast at this motel. I'll go get you some." Sam left and quickly returned with a bottle of milk. He opened the lid and held it out to Dean. "Here."

Dean raised his hand to take it, but his hands would not hold still. He reluctantly allowed Sam to tilt the bottle to his lips. Dean downed the entire thing, waiting a few minutes until his shakes subsided.

"Better?" asked Sam. Dean nodded. Sam sat down next to him in a second chair. "Dean…did someone hurt you?"

Dean closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before looking up at Sam. "Sammy…drop it."

"Drop it?" said Sam. "You were taken in the middle of the night! You were missing…for a week! How can I just drop it?"

"Because I said so!" said Dean, standing to tower over Sam.

"That's not gonna cut it this time, Dean!" said Sam, standing also. "I'm your brother! I deserve to know!"

"You don't need to know a damn thing!" said Dean, getting closer. "This is my problem, not yours!"

"Not my problem?" said Sam. "How can it not be my problem?"

"You weren't there!" yelled Dean.

"What did I miss?" asked John from the doorway. Sam and Dean both looked at him, chests heaving. John got his first good look at Dean. "What the hell happened to you, Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes and strode towards the bathroom, slamming the door.

Sam walked over to the door. "Dean—"

"Go away, Sam!" Dean called through the door.

Sam left the door and headed over to John. "So much for a happy welcome home party."

"Give him time, son," said John. "He's obviously been through a lot. We need to let him deal. But we also need to get him to talk. It's not good to keep this to himself."

Sam nodded. "I think he'll…well, no offense, but I think he'll talk to me."

John nodded. "I think you're right. You boys have always been there for each other. He'll talk to you."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Dean had emerged from the bathroom last night and headed straight for his bed, curling up under the covers and shutting his father and brother out. He hadn't even asked for Sam's laptop to occupy his non-sleeping hours. He just lay there after he woke up and pretended to be asleep. This morning, Sam was just finishing up in the bathroom and John had just gone out to make a breakfast run. Dean pulled out his cell phone and piece of paper Isabelle had given him, dialing her number.

"Hello?" Isabelle answered.

"Hey, Isabelle," said Dean. "It's Dean."

"Hi, Dean," said Isabelle. "How are you?"

"Great," said Dean. "I'm fine."

"You found your family?" asked Isabelle.

"Yeah," said Dean. "They were in town. I'm with them now. I mean, not with them, they're…somewhere else now, but I'm…"

"I get it, Dean," Isabelle laughed. "You doing okay after…you know…"

"Yeah," said Dean. "Got milk and everything."

Isabelle laughed. "That's good to hear. You gonna be in town?"

"Well, we're probably gonna hit the road sometime today," said Dean.

"That's too bad," said Isabelle. "I would've liked to see you again."

"Yeah, that would've been great," said Dean.

"Well…" began Isabelle.

"Well…" said Dean.

"I'll, uh, see you around," said Isabelle.

"Yeah, you, too," said Dean.

"Alright," said Isabelle.

"Goodbye, Isabelle," said Dean.

"Goodbye, Dean," said Isabelle. Dean hung up the phone.

"Who's Isabelle?" asked Sam.

Dean turned to see Sam at the bathroom doorway, arms crossed and leaning against the door frame. "No one."

"Come on," said Sam. "You were acting like a seventh-grader with a crush."

Dean rolled his eyes. "An old friend. Ran into her the other day. She gave me her number."

Sam could tell that Dean wasn't being entirely truthful, but that was Dean for you. "What was that about hitting the road?"

"Well, there's another hunt waiting for us," said Dean. "We gotta hit the road."

"Are you sure that's what this is?" asked Sam.

Dean looked up at him, halfway through packing. "What do you mean?"

"Your sudden burning desire to leave town," said Sam. "Is it because we have a hunt?"

"What else would it be about?" asked Dean.

"The last week," said Sam. "What happened to you."

Dean went back to packing. "It's got nothing to do with that."

"Oh, yeah? Then what's this hunt?" Dean stopped, looking down at the floor but staying silent. "That's what I thought."

"Sam…I'm okay."

"You sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"Then why do you want to leave town all of a sudden? There's got to be another reason you suddenly want to bail."

Dean threw his shirt into the bag. "I told you. We got a hunt."

"That's a cover, and you know it." Dean went back to his packing. "Come on, Dean, something is up. You blocked me out, rushed off into the next room and ignored me the rest of the night. Now you want to run away. You're upset. Even I can see that."

"Why don't you lay off?"

"Because this isn't healthy for you! You need to tell somebody what happened! You can't keep covering it up!"

"What do you want from me?"

"The truth! You're in denial, and ignoring it won't make it go away!"

Dean threw the last of his clothes into his bag and picked it up with his good arm, turning towards the door. "You coming or what?"

Sam raised his hands in aggravation as he picked up his bag. "We gotta call Dad."

"Then call him," said Dean, already out the door. He sat in the driver's seat and waited for Sam to call Dad.

Sam called Dad, pulling him away from the food run. Sam got into the passenger seat. As soon as John's truck pulled into the parking lot, Dean pulled out, leading the way out of town. Twenty minutes away, they pulled up to a diner, having missed breakfast. They sat at a booth, ordered their food and waited.

"I'll be right back," said Dean, getting up and heading in the direction of the bathroom.

John turned to Sam. "He talk yet?"

"No," said Sam. "Each time I keep pushing, he pushes me further away. I just don't know how to get through to him."

"Well, keep trying," said John. "He'll break through sooner or later. Hopefully sooner."

A young woman walked into the diner. She looked like a homeless person. She walked up to the counter, placing some change onto it.

"Can I have a bottle of water?" she asked.

The waiter turned to grab the bottle of water. When he turned back around, he spotted the barcode tattoo on her neck. He quickly yanked the bottle away from the counter.

"We don't serve you mutant scum," said the waiter.

"Please," the girl begged. "I just want some water. I'll pay you."

The waiter picked up her change. "We don't want your money." He flung it at the girl, and it scattered in the air, falling to the floor.

The girl bent down, scrabbling for the change. The patrons looked pityingly at her, but then went back to their meals. As the girl's eyes filled with tears, Dean stormed over to the counter. Sam and John exchanged glances, staring at Dean. They hadn't even seen him return. Dean strolled up to the counter, getting in the waiter's face.

"I believe the lady asked for some water," said Dean.

"She's a transgenic," said the waiter. "She's a mutant."

"Does she look like a mutant to you?" said Dean, jaw clenched. "She's paying you. I suggest you give her some water."

"Says who?" said the waiter.

Dean reached over the counter and grabbed the waiter by the throat, hauling him over the counter and to the floor in front of him. Sam and John jumped up from the booth, rushing over to him.

"You think she asked for this?" Dean seethed, holding the waiter close to his face. "You think she asked to be different? She didn't have a damn choice in this!"

"Dean, let him go!" Sam told him.

Dean's eyes were wide and angry, not hearing Sam. "You don't have to judge her just because she's different! How would you feel if you were one of us, huh?"

"Dean!" John commanded, trying and failing to yank Dean's arm away. "Let him go!"

"You know, you're the reason we're afraid to go outside!" said Dean. "You're the reason we fear for our lives! It's all your fault, you prejudiced son of a bitch!"

"Dean!" Sam yelled next to Dean.

Dean looked up at Sam, snapping out of the moment. He looked down at the waiter in front of him, whose eyes were wide and terrified. Dean's hand had practically closed the man's throat, and he was close to passing out. Dean quickly released the waiter's throat, backing up a few feet as his eyes changed from angry to afraid. Dean looked down at the young woman, who was staring up at him in fear. Everyone was staring at Dean as he looked down at the waiter, hands beginning to shake.

"I'm sorry," said Dean, backing up further. "I'm sorry."

He quickly turned and ran out of the diner. Sam and John followed him and found him standing by the driver's door of the Impala.

"Dean, what the hell was that?" asked John.

Dean raised a shaky hand to his face. "I don't know."

"You almost killed a man just because he hates transgenics!" said John. "That's not how I raised you!"

Dean turned towards him, getting in his face. "You're damn right that's not how you raised me! You hardly raised me at all! I'm just another one of Manticore's killer mutants! It's apparently all I'm good for!" Dean turned and climbed into the driver's seat, slamming the door.

John looked at Sam. "You really need to get him to talk."

"Why do you think he snapped?" asked Sam.

"Most likely the last week," said John.

"You think?" asked Sam.

"Well, he went off on the guy because he hates transgenics," said John. "More than likely, whoever took Dean, took him because he hates transgenics."

"Okay, I'll try," said Sam. He climbed into the passenger seat. Dean immediately took off like a bat out of hell.

After a few minutes, Sam looked over at Dean. "What's going on with you?" Dean remained silent. "I mean, this is obviously because of what happened to you. You need to talk about it. It's killing you. If you don't talk about it, you're gonna bottle it up and then you'll never deal with it. And it'll always be there, eating away at you." Dean still remained silent. "Dean, what did we promise after you told me all about that transgenic stuff? We said we would be straight with each other…trust each other. Don't you trust me?"

Dean looked down at the steering wheel at his white knuckles. He reached over and turned on the radio, letting Metallica boom out of the speakers. Sam raised his hands in exasperation, looking out his window.

Twenty minutes later, Dean looked down at the bruises on his arms peeking out of his jacket sleeves. He glanced over at Sam, who was looking out his window. He looked out the windshield, spotting a clearing ahead. Rolling his eyes, Dean pulled over onto the shoulder.

"Dean, what are you doing?" asked Sam. He looked around, trying to spot what caused Dean to pull over. Dean put on the parking brake, turned the car off and sat back, staring at the steering wheel. "Dean?"

"You're right," said Dean. "I do trust you."

Realizing what this was about, Sam discreetly pulled out his phone, texting John: _Don't get out of the truck. Dean's finally talking._ He sent the message and put the phone away. He turned towards Dean and waited patiently.

"The motel manager did it," said Dean. "He saw me catch the baseball in the parking lot that day, and, uh…well, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say he doesn't like transgenics." He laughed a little at that. "I woke up that night when the motel door opened. I could hear you two still in the room, but I could also hear that someone else was in the room. I pretended to roll over in my sleep so I could reach the knife under my pillow. I waited for him to get closer, but by the time he was close enough to catch off guard, something was pressed over my face…covering my mouth and nose. I'd recognized the smell…chloroform. Before I could stop breathing or fight back or make enough racket to wake you two, I was out."

He took a moment to gather himself.

"The next time I woke up, I was in an empty room…strapped to a table. I tried to break free, but the cuffs around my hands and feet were, like, made of steel or something. I couldn't get loose. I looked around the room to see if there was anything I could use to get free, and that's when I noticed the bastard had taken my clothes. Before I could get to, _What the hell is going on?_, he walked into the room…pushing a cart with knives and guns and…who knew what else. He had his whole speech about how transgenics are mutant scum and aren't worthy of being called human and we don't deserve to live and an example needed to be set. He said he wanted to have a little fun."

Sam cringed, realizing that the manager had hurt Dean…tortured him…all because he was a racist.

Dean laughed bitterly. "Boy, he must have some whacked idea of fun. I sure didn't enjoy it."

He took a moment to pause.

"The first day, he beat me…used his fists first…beat my arms…legs…chest…head…even knocked me out once or twice. The second day, he moved onto a crowbar. He hit me with it over and over again…that's actually how he dislocated my shoulder. The third day, he moved onto the knife…cut me over and over. The fourth day, he kept cutting me, reopening the healed cuts. The fifth day…he moved back to the crowbar…but he'd kept it in the fire. He burned me all…day…long."

Dean paused again to take a deep breath.

"The sixth day, he beat me again. At the end of the day, he picked the gun up…and shot me in the leg."

Sam nodded, realizing. "Your limp."

"Yeah. The seventh day, he walked in with a jug of salt. I looked at him like he was nuts, but of course, it probably looked more like a grimace since I was in so much pain. He began pouring salt into my cuts and bullet wound." Dean laughed a little. "I think I know how a ghost feels now. Salt hurts like a bitch."

Sam laughed a little at that also.

"He began telling me that he had invited a friend over that night. How his friend wanted to have a little fun, too. Said he'd like a nice 'hot piece of ass.'"

Sam's eyes widened as the implications of what Dean just said made his blood run cold. "He didn't."

"Oh, he didn't," said Dean with a satisfied smile. "The guy leaned close to me, probably thought I was too out of it." Dean looked over at Sam with a smile. It was the first true smile he'd shown since he had gotten back. "His mistake. I head-butted him. As he fell, I grabbed the knife out of his other hand. I picked the lock on the cuffs and made a run for it. I knew he wouldn't be out long, and who knew when the other guy would show up. I was in no shape to take on one, let alone two, guys. When I got out of the building, I was in the middle of the woods. I tried to make it to town, actually got within five minutes of town. But I couldn't make it anymore, and I passed out."

He paused again.

"A woman found me and brought me back to her cabin…patched me up." Dean looked up at Sam again. "Her name was Isabelle."

Sam nodded, the pieces falling together. "The woman you called."

Dean nodded. "She gave me her number…wanted me to keep in touch. The next morning, I set out for town, tracked your GPS down and found the motel."

"God…" Sam said, looking at his feet. "The whole time you were in the woods, just…Why couldn't we get to you in time?"

"Hey," said Dean. Sam looked up at him. "You guys did your best. You kept looking for me. You never gave up on me. I can't tell you what that means." Sam smiled. "And now that you've turned me into a big girl…"

Sam laughed a little. "So…the motel manager…"

"Yeah," said Dean.

"Turn the car around," said Sam abruptly.

Dean looked at him. "What, why?"

"Dean, you're not seriously gonna let that guy get away with it?" said Sam. "What if he hurts someone else? We can't leave him to keep hurting transgenics."

Dean looked out the windshield, thinking. He looked back at Sam with a battle ready smirk. "Hell, no." Dean started the car and pulled 180, tearing down the highway back to town.

Sam's cell phone rang, and he answered it. "Yeah?" After a moment, Sam looked at Dean. "It's Dad. You want me to tell him?" Dean looked at Sam for a moment before nodding. Sam went back to his phone conversation. "It was the motel manager that took Dean…he tortured Dean because he was a transgenic." Sam paused for a moment. "Alright." He hung up.

"What'd he say?" asked Dean.

"That he wants first dibs at the guy," said Sam, smiling.

Dean laughed. "Oh, man, I almost feel sorry for the guy…almost."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Dean loaded his gun as Sam and John did the same.

"Alright, let's just get him to the building in the woods," said John.

"Why?" asked Dean.

"So he can feel everything you went through," said John.

"What?" said Dean. "No!"

"Dean, he **tortured** you," said Sam. "For **fun.**"

"I'm not saying we let him off easy," said Dean. "But we are not torturing him."

"Son, he's an evil bastard…a monster," said John.

"That doesn't mean we stoop to his level," said Dean. "We don't become monsters." He took a deep breath. "Look, by all means, have at it. Just don't torture him. You fight fire with fire, all you get is a bigger fire. If transgenics are ever going to be viewed as actual people, we don't need to be torturing because of a hate crime."

John nodded. "You're right. But I still want the first shot at him."

Dean laughed. "Fair enough."

They left the trunk of the Impala, heading to the lobby of the motel through the dark night. Dean expertly picked the lock, and they rushed inside. They found the manager's bedroom and snuck inside. Dean pulled a cloth soaked in chloroform out of his pocket as he approached the bed.

The manager slept all snug in his bed as if he hadn't just spent a week torturing an innocent man. That pissed Dean off like no other. Dean quickly placed the cloth over the man's mouth and nose. The man's eyes sprang open, and they widened when he spotted Dean's face. The man quickly passed out.

Dean looked up at Sam. "That was…oddly relieving."

"It was?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, I mean, did you see his face?" said Dean. "That was awesome."

"Enjoying yourself?" asked Sam.

"Shut up," muttered Dean.

They tied the guy's hands and feet, hauling him out to the Impala. After several pushes, Dean finally consented taking the manager to the building in the woods he'd been taken to, knowing it would be easier to get him arrested if he was surrounded by his own guilty handiwork. Sam grabbed the guy's feet as Dean grabbed his arms. Sam walked backwards into the building as Dean shuffled after him. As soon as Dean was through the door, he froze, looking around at the confines he'd stared at for a week. His blood still littered the floor and table.

"Hey," said Sam. Dean looked up at him. "You gonna be okay?"

Dean looked at the bloody table. "I'll let you know. Come on." He helped Sam put the manager on the table. After strapping him with the shackles that had once held Dean, Dean rummaged in the manager's pockets, pulling out his wallet.

"What's his name?" asked Sam as Dean pulled out a driver's license. Dean stared at the license, mouth twitching into a smile. "Dean?" Dean looked up at him, smiling. "What's his name?"

Dean's smile grew wider. "Dick." Sam frowned. "His name is Dick Richardson. I guess he shortened it because Richard Richardson would be too confusing." Dean laughed out loud. "Either way, it suits him."

Sam looked down at "Dick," chuckling at the name he'd been given. "That's hilarious."

"I know, right?" said Dean.

Sam looked around the floor at Dean's blood. It had stained the floor of the room, already turned a dark brown. "God…"

Dean looked up to see Sam looking at the tray of torture instruments, bloody from the past week. Dean walked over to Sam, putting a hand on his shoulder. Sam looked up at Dean, seeing the cuts and bruises the tray of instruments had implemented.

"Sam…" began Dean, unsure how to start, "it wasn't that bad."

Sam frowned at Dean, staring at him. "Not that bad? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Just what I said," said Dean. "It wasn't that bad."

"You were tortured, Dean!" said Sam. "For a week!"

"I've had worse," muttered Dean, keeping his voice low.

Sam, however, heard the whole thing. "You what?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"Well, tough, I did," said Sam. "What do you mean, you've had worse? You've been tortured before?"

Dean looked down at his feet. "Yeah."

"Who?" asked Sam, eager to dish out more payback.

"Manticore," said Dean.

Sam frowned. "What?"

"Long story," said Dean. "Basically, they had ways of making you do what they wanted…and not caring about it."

Sam shook his head. "Sorry, man. I had no idea it was like this."

"It's not your fault," said Dean.

"I know," said Sam. "I just wish I could make it all go away."

John walked into the room, looking around at the blood. He took a deep breath before looking at Dean. "You guys okay?"

"Yeah," said Dean. He heard the manager stir, and he walked over to the table, leaning over him. "Oh, look who's awake." Dick opened his eyes, looking up at Dean. "Hello, _Dick_." He emphasized the name, making sure the guy knew it was an insult.

"You transgenic scum," said Dick.

"Who's the scum, now?" asked Dean. "I'm just living my life, helping people, even saving their lives. You…you torture people for fun. I'd say you're the scumbag."

"You're not people," muttered Dick. "You're trash."

"Now, normally, I'd retort with some witty comeback," said Dean. "But you're not even worth it."

"Then what are you gonna do?" asked Dick.

"Oh, not me," said Dean. He looked up at his father. "Him." Dick looked over at John. "You see, you messed with a Winchester…and not just any Winchester…_his_ son." Dean backed away from the table as John moved forward. "I'd wish you luck, but, uh…I don't think I really want to."

Dean and Sam stood against the wall as John headed towards the table.

"Oh, so, what, eye for an eye?" asked Dick. John didn't say anything. It began putting Dick on edge. "You gonna torture me?"

"No," said John, towering over Dick. "But you hurt my son." He grabbed the man's jaw, forcing his head towards his own. "And now I'm gonna hurt you."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Dick looked up at John from the table, blinking through the blood running into his eyes. John had just finished punching him several times. Dick laughed.

"What are you smiling at, you little bitch?" growled Dean from the wall next to Sam.

"You guys are pathetic…all of you," said Dick, looking at Dean. "Especially you. I mean, here you are, going through the motions, but we both know you're a coward." Dick looked up at John. "You should have heard your _scared, little boy_ after a few days…crying out for Sammy, Daddy, Mommy…Rachel…"

Dean blurred straight over to Dick, punching him as hard as he could. Three teeth flew out of Dick's mouth, and his nose gave a horrid crack.

Dean leaned towards Dick, yelling in his face. "You do **not** get to say her name!"

"What's the matter?" said Dick. "She dump you when she found out you were a transgenic?" He laughed at Dean. Dean brought his elbow down onto Dick's sternum. Dick coughed as he winced. But the moron just did not know when to quit. He glared up at Dean, smirking. "Or maybe your evil transgenic ways got her killed."

Dean froze, glaring at Dick as the man began laughing. Dean moved away from the table, heading down to the guy's legs. Dean raised a leg and kicked out at the side of the man's knee. As Dick's knee dislocated—and probably broke—Dick yelled in pain. Dean ran back up to Dick's face.

"Don't you **ever** talk about her!" yelled Dean. "**Ever**!"

Dean glared at the whimpering man, chest heaving. Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder gently. Dean spun his head to look at Sam, and Sam couldn't hide the jump at Dean's angry, pissed-off look. Dean calmed a little and headed out the door. Sam followed to find Dean standing by a nearby tree, hands in his hair.

"Dean…" began Sam. "Who's Rachel?"

Dean dropped his hands, turning towards Sam. "Someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"A transgenic?" asked Sam.

Dean smiled a little. "Far from it." Dean looked up at Sam. "Her name was Rachel Berrisford. I met her five years ago. Manticore sent me to kill her father. I posed as her piano teacher. We hung out for a while. When it came time to kill her father, Manticore changed the mission. They wanted me to kill her, too…I couldn't do it."

Sam nodded. "You loved her."

Dean looked up at Sam and nodded. "I planted the bomb on their car…Her father got in, and I couldn't take it anymore. I ran inside and tried to stop Rachel. I told her everything…well, almost everything. When she found out I was trying to kill them, she rushed out to the car and got her father out. That was when Manticore showed up and blew the bomb. The blast knocked Rachel out. She went into a coma…and died a year later."

Sam winced, looking down at the ground. "I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean nodded, feeling the tears begin to come. "I just wish I'd been strong enough to fight them earlier."

"But you did," said Sam. "That's the important thing. You didn't kill her…**they** did. You tried to save her. Never forget that."

Dean smiled, looking back at the building. "What do you say we check on Dad?"

Sam and Dean walked back into the building, finding John wiping blood off his hands.

"I'm done," John told them. "Your turn."

Dean laughed. "Nah, I think I'm good."

Sam shrugged. "Well, I'm not." He walked over to Dick and slugged him across his broken nose. Dick yelled in pain as Sam walked back over to his family. "Now, I'm good."

Dean and John laughed.

"Alright, time to call the cops," said John, pulling out his cell phone.

***********SN***********

Dean heard a knock on the door, and he got up to answer it. He opened the door to find a familiar face standing there.

"Isabelle?" said Dean.

"Hey, Dean," said Isabelle.

"What are you doing here?" asked Dean, his face lighting up. Sam got curious and walked up behind Dean, looking at Isabelle.

"I wanted to check up on you," replied Isabelle.

"How'd you know I was here?" asked Dean.

"I was in town getting groceries and saw you pull up to the motel," said Isabelle, glancing back at the Impala. "Nice car, by the way."

Dean smiled. "Thanks." He noticed Isabelle was staring at something behind him, and he looked to see Sam at his shoulder. "Oh, sorry. Isabelle, this is my brother, Sam."

"Oh, you're Sam?" said Isabelle.

"And you're Isabelle," said Sam. "Thank you for helping my brother."

"Oh, it was no trouble," said Isabelle, smiling at Dean. "Really?"

Sam watched the two of them with a smile.

"So, how are you doing?" asked Isabelle. "I noticed your limp is almost gone."

"Yeah, it's doing better." Dean smiled at Isabelle as she smiled back.

"Well…" said Isabelle, still smiling. "I'm glad you're better."

"Me, too," smiled Dean.

Isabelle laughed. "I'll, uh…see you around."

"Yeah," said Dean. "See ya. I'm glared you stopped by."

"Bye, Dean," she said.

"Bye," said Dean. Isabelle walked down the sidewalk, and Dean edged out the door, smiling after her. Isabelle looked back and waved at him. Dean waved back, smiling. He closed the door and looked up at a smiling Sam. "What?"

"It's like classic Florence Nightingale effect," said Sam.

"What do you mean?" asked Dean.

"Nurses falling in love with their patients…" said Sam. "And vice versa." Dean frowned at him. "Dude, you're totally into her."

"What? I am not!"

"Whatever. She's totally into you, too."

"Yeah, right." Dean looked back at the door and then at Sam. "Really?"

Sam laughed. "It's like you're twelve years old again."

"Shut up," muttered Dean, moving back to the table.

"No, it's great, Dean," said Sam, "that you've found someone."

"Yeah, that's the last thing she needs," said Dean.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Not every relationship is destined to end in disaster, Dean."

"Ours are," said Dean.

"Doesn't mean we should cut everyone out," said Sam. "I'm the one that's cursed, remember? Not you."

Dean laughed bitterly. "Have you seen my life lately?"

"You know what I mean," said Sam. "If we don't take risks, what's the point of living?"

Dean nodded. "You should take your own advice, Sammy."

************SN***************

"Max!" Logan called from the command center. Max looked up at him. "You might want to take a look at this."

Max headed up the stairs to the command center, several transgenics following her.

A news report was on the television, being given by an anchorman. "Forty-two-year-old Dick Richardson, owner of the Spinning Wheel motel, was arrested this morning in downtown Seattle for kidnapping and torturing a transgenic."

"Oh, my God," said Max with contempt. The TV showed a beaten man in handcuffs being escorted into a cop car.

"The transgenic claims he was held at the mercy of his kidnapper for a week before escaping," said the anchorwoman. "Police arriving at the scene found gruesome evidence of Richardson's crime. But what was more remarkable was the capture of the kidnapper."

The TV switched over to an interview with a cop.

"The transgenic had caught him in a citizen's arrest," said the cop. "With the help of his father and brother."

Max's eyes widened. "It couldn't be…"

"They subdued him and then called us," said the cop. "The transgenic said, 'That's what happens when you mess with a Winchester.'"

Max looked at Logan. "Dean…" She looked back to see another cop on TV, being interviewed.

"I admired the way the victim dealt with the guy," said the cop. "Even though the man had tortured the transgenic, he didn't retaliate more than necessary before calling the cops. And people say transgenics aren't human. This guy is more human than Richardson ever will be."

"When asked the reason for his crime, Richardson replied that an example needed to be set and transgenics did not deserve to live. The transgenic and his family returned home shortly after the arrest," said the anchorman before moving onto the next story.

Max pulled her phone out, calling Dean.

"Hello?" Dean answered.

"I just heard," said Max.

"About what?" asked Dean.

"Richardson," said Max.

"Son of a bitch," said Dean. "They promised not to mention my name."

"Well, they didn't, not really. But there aren't many transgenics with a family and last name of Winchester." She took a deep breath. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"So…you guys **subdued** him, huh?"

"Well, Dad wanted the first crack at him…"

"I'll bet he did," said Max.

A bang echoed across the room.

"What was that?" asked Dean.

"I don't know," said Max. "Hang on."

Max looked up at the door to the command center, looking for the disturbance. A man walked into the room.

"Well, hello, freaks," said the man.

Max brought the phone back to her face. "Oh, great. Some racist human."

"Tell him to fuck off," said Dean. "I know I've had enough with racist jerks to last me a lifetime."

Max looked up to see the man punching a transgenic girl. He flung his arms up and everyone flew into the wall…as if he used telekinesis.

"What the…" said Max.

"What is it?" asked Dean.

"It's like this guy is psychic, or something," said Max.

"Wait, what?" said Dean, urgently. "What's going on? Tell me what's happening."

The man walked up the stairs to command central. His eyes turned black.

"Holy…" said Max.

"Max, come on!" said Dean. "Talk to me!"

"His eyes just turned black," said Max quietly, still staring at the guy.

"Max, run!" said Dean suddenly.

"What, no!" said Max.

"Well, hello, Max," said the guy. He headed towards Max, standing in front of her.

"Max, get some salt, holy water, iron!" Dean warned her. "You gotta—"

"If that's Dean on the other line, tell him I'm waiting for him," said the guy in a loud voice. Dean froze as he heard the demon.

"Who are you?" asked Max.

"I'm the end," said the demon. "And you're in my town now, baby."

With that, Dean heard the call disconnect.

"Come on!" said Dean, putting his cell away and grabbing for his stuff in the motel room.

"What is it?" asked Sam.

"It's Terminal City," said Dean. "Demons are storming it. We gotta run!"


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Dean looked into the backseat at his father. "Look, Dad…no disrespect, but—"

"You should take lead at Terminal City," said John. Dean looked back at him in surprise. "It's your city, son. They'll listen to you."

Dean nodded. "Thanks, Dad."

"Okay, so, what do the demons want with Terminal City?" asked Sam.

"No clue," said Dean.

"I mean, there's gotta be a reason, right?" asked Sam.

"Who knows," muttered Dean. "Unless…"

"Unless what?" asked Sam.

"There was this breeding cult that White always talked about," said Dean. "He said they were special…bred to survive some kind of apocalypse." Dean glanced over at Sam. "What if this is it?"

Sam looked back at the road. "Well, that's comforting."

"I know," said Dean.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at the gates of Terminal City. Dean had extinguished his headlights and crept the Impala up to the gate, trying to make as little noise as possible. The three of them grabbed salt guns, iron rounds for the .45's, holy water, bags of salt, and cans of spray paint for the devil's traps—which John had taught them about. They snuck into the command center.

Inside the door, Dean held his hand up, telling his brother and father to freeze.

"It's just me: Alec," Dean called. "Put your guns down."

The sound of shotguns being cocked and moved came from all around them. The lights in the building came on, and the Winchesters found themselves surrounded by transgenics.

"How do we know it's you?" asked a young transgenic man from Dean's right—Luke. "How do we know you're not one of those cloud thingies."

Dean pulled out his flask of holy water. "Those 'cloud thingies' are demons. They're possessing people. And this…" he held up his flask, "…is holy water. I'm pretty sure you know what it does to demons."

Everyone around him nodded. Dean opened the flask and took a drink from it.

"Happy?" asked Dean.

Max stepped forward from the crowd. "So…demons, huh?"

Dean stared at her, eyes narrowed. He flung the flask in her direction, splashing her face with holy water. Max stared at him, frowning. "Yeah, demons."

"Was the holy water really necessary?" asked Max.

"Yes," said Dean. "What's the problem? Wasn't there a demon here just a few minutes ago?"

"Yeah," said Max, leading him up to command central. "He caused a ruckus and some of those demon clouds blew in, darting right into the mouths of several transgenics. We weren't sure what it meant, so we kicked those transgenics out, along with the possessed human guy."

"Good instinct," said Dean. "Have they done anything yet?"

"Not that I can tell," said Max. "But they have taken about half the city hostage."

"Hostage?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, half of Seattle is possessed," said Max.

"Shit," said Dean. "When do things ever get easy?"

"What do we do?" asked Max.

Dean looked at her. "You're seriously asking me?"

"Well, you're the one who knows about the supernatural," said Max. "What do we need to do?"

"Uh, salt at every window and every door," Dean told her. "My dad, brother and I can show you how to draw devil's traps at the entrances. It traps demons inside of it, makes them powerless. We have salt rounds and iron rounds for the guns. It's the only thing that hurts them."

"Salt and iron?" asked Max.

"Yeah, salt and iron are symbols of purity," said Sam. "So, it repels unnatural and impure things."

"Alright, then what?" asked Max.

"Well, we can scout out the city," said Dean. "See what's really going on."

"Works for me," said Max. She turned to the crowd. "Alright, people. We need lines of salt at all the windows and doors. Grab any salt or iron you can find. I need a team to go with me and Alec to scout the city. Who's with me?"

Five transgenics stepped forward.

"Alright, when we going?" asked Max.

"As soon as the salt and devil's traps are in place," said Dean.

"And you're sure they'll hold?" asked Max.

"Positive," said Dean.

After the devil's traps were spray painted on the floor and the salt lined the windows and doors, Max took Alec and her team into the city, creeping along the roofs of the buildings. They watched the possessed people on the streets herding the non-possessed people into groups.

"What are they doing?" asked Max.

"I wish I knew," said Dean. "They're demons. They pretty much just live on chaos."

"Well, what's our first step?" asked Max.

"Give me a break," said Dean. "I'm not used to being in charge here."

"Well, you better think fast," said Max.

"Why?"

"Because I think they just noticed us."

Dean looked at where Max was looking and noticed someone with black eyes looking up at the seven of them. There was lightning overhead, and they looked up to see seven clouds of black smoke hurling towards them. Dean watched the black smoke blow into the other transgenics, including Max.

_Dammit, I've lost her!_

Dean watched in horror as the final cloud headed straight for him, flying down his throat.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

**And here ya go. I have every chapter until the end planned out. I just need to write them now.**

Dean grimaced as he doubled over. _What the hell? Is this what possession is usually like?_

Dean could feel the demon inside of him, struggling for control. But amazingly, Dean was holding onto control of his body. The demon couldn't take control over him. Dean stood up and looked over at Max. She was looking at him strangely, a hand against her chest. The other transgenics were in similar positions.

"Is this supposed to feel like this?" asked Max.

Dean shook his head. "I don't think so. They should've gained possession of our bodies by now."

"Why can't they possess us?" asked Max.

Dean grimaced at the force of the demon struggling inside of him. "Well, what happened to the other transgenics…the ones who were possessed before we got here?"

"Well, they doubled over," said Max. "They looked like they were in pain. Then they were fine…I guess. They tried to convince us they were themselves, but I didn't want to take a chance that it was a trick."

"Maybe they were themselves," said Dean. "Maybe demons can't possess transgenics."

"That doesn't make any sense," said Max.

"Neither does this," said Dean, rubbing a hand against his chest. "If they can't possess us, why don't they just leave us?" He frowned. "Unless…"

"Unless what?" asked Max.

"Maybe they can't leave," said Dean. "Maybe once they've gotten into us and can't take control, they can't figure out how to get out."

"So, what, we'll have demons stuck inside of us for the rest of our lives?" asked Max.

"No, there's a way to get them out," said Dean. "We'll just have to exorcize them."

"You can do that?" asked Max.

"Well, not me," said Dean. "I don't remember the Latin. Sam will, though. Come on, let's get back to camp. We'll round up all the transgenics from earlier, too."

Half an hour later, they had gathered all the possessed transgenics and entered command central. Of course, they couldn't get past the devil's traps because of the demons.

"What's going on?" asked Sam as he spotted all the transgenics.

"They're not possessed," Dean explained. "Well, I mean, we all are—"

"We?" asked Sam. "As in, you too?"

"Not really," said Dean. "The demons got inside of us, but they can't take over our bodies." Sam frowned. "Don't ask me to explain it."

"It sounds like a trick," said Sam, backing away. "How do I know you're really Dean? You could be a demon."

"Just do the exorcism," said Dean.

Sam frowned. "You want an exorcism?"

"How else are the demons going to get out?" said Dean, exasperated.

Sam shrugged, nodding. "You're really Dean, aren't you?"

"Enough small talk, exorcize already," muttered Dean.

Sam began with the Latin, finishing the exorcism, and the demons all blew out of the transgenics, soaring into the sky.

Dean and Max entered the building with the rest of the transgenics.

Max headed up the stairs to stand above the rest of the transgenics. "Alright, grab whatever you can, people. There's a safe shelter ten miles from here. Anyone who can't run, take the vans." Logan joined her from his station at the computers.

"Wait, what?" said Dean, climbing halfway up the stairs towards Max.

"We need to hurry, people," said Max. "We don't know when they'll be coming back."

"Wait, so that's it?" said Dean. It caught the attention of the transgenics, and they all stopped to watch the exchange. "You're giving up?"

"They're demons, Dean," said Max, looking at him for the first time. "This is way out of our element."

"So, what, we're just gonna run away?" said Dean.

"Well, what do you suggest we do?" said Max.

"They can't possess us," said Dean. "I mean, obviously Sandman somehow made us so we can't get possessed by demons, right?"

"So?"

"So, I say we use that to our advantage," said Dean. "I say we go in and we fight."

"We don't know anything about demons," Max told him.

Dean gestured to his father and brother. "Well, we do. And I say we take 'em." Dean spread his arms. "What's it gonna be, Max? Fight or flight?"

Max looked down at her people. Several transgenics nodded at her, giving their support. Max looked at Dean with a battle-worn smile. "Fight."

Dean smiled. "That's my girl."

*************SN*******************

Max stood at the railing of the command center while the transgenics stood below her in the building. Dean, John, Sam and Logan stood behind her.

"This is the deal," began Max. "These demons can't possess us. We are the only hope Seattle has. We have to do something, and Alec here knows what." Max motioned towards Dean.

Dean stepped forward as Max stepped back, leaning up against Logan. "Alright, let's get one thing straight from here on out. Alec **was** my name, but now it's Dean. Got that?" There were murmurs from the crowd. "Alright, demons are tricky sons of bitches. They won't hesitate to manipulate, confuse or even kill you—especially so with that last part. All they want is death and destruction for their own sake. With that in mind, my family and I know how to fight them. Max is right—demons can't possess us. But that doesn't mean they won't try."

"What about them?" asked Dix from the crowd, motioning to John, Sam and Logan.

"They've got anti-possession charms," said Dean. "Which reminds me…" Dean dug in his pocket, pulling out another charm and handed it to Max.

"What's this for?" asked Max, frowning.

"Logan…" said Dean. "I can't touch him…"

Max rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah."

Dean turned back to the crowd. "Don't let the demons get too close to you, unless you plan to fight them. They could try to possess you. It won't work, but it hurts like hell. The only weapons that hurt them are salt, iron, and holy water."

"That only slows them down," Mole spoke up. "What sends them back to hell?"

"Exorcism," said Dean. "We've got the ritual. It's in Latin. Shouldn't be too hard for you all to memorize in a couple minutes. Everyone got that?" There were murmurs and even some "yes, sirs" from the crowd. "Alright, gear up!"

The transgenics began storing up on salt, iron and holy water. Sam and John moved down into the crowd.

Dean turned towards Logan and Max. "You guys ready?"

Max smiled. "Born ready."

"Ditto," said Logan.

"Alright," said Dean.

He looked down at the crowd to see Sam and John passing out copies of the exorcism ritual. The transgenics would look it over for about a minute and then pass it on, their enhanced brains having memorized it. Within ten minutes, the crowd looked up at the platform.

Max stepped forward. "Everyone ready?" There were shouts from the crowd, amping themselves up. "Let's move out!"


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Seventeen

**I am sorry it's so short, but I loved the way it ended, and couldn't really add any more in between.**

Dean snuck among the buildings with his brother and father, leading a small army of transgenics. Max was on the other side of town, leading the other half of the transgenics. Dean squatted at the corner of the building, motioning for everyone to stop. He looked at the building in front of him. Several people stood outside and several others walked around it, guarding the building. Dean used his enhanced vision to look closely at their eyes: black. Dean also looked at the other side of the building. In the shadows across the way, he could see Max watching the building also. Max nodded at him, letting him know she would wait for his signal.

Dean looked back at his father and brother, speaking in a near whisper voice. "They're demons. They're guarding something."

"The leader, maybe?" suggested Sam.

Dean wasn't sure what the answer was to that, having never seen the guy who was obviously the demon leader. Dean looked back at Max, sending her small hand motions to ask her if the guy was out front. Max looked quickly at the building, waiting until all the demons had circled it once. She looked back at Dean and shook her head.

Dean turned back to Sam. "Probably. He's not out here."

"Well, they're also guarding all the humans in the city in there, too," Dalton whispered to Dean from his position behind the Winchesters.

Dean smiled back at him. "Good eye."

"What?" asked John.

Dean subtly pointed at one of the windows on the second floor. He could see a small face in the window, but the building was so far away, and the face was only visible from the eyes up.

"I don't see anything," said Sam.

"No, you wouldn't," said Dean. "There's people in there."

"What's the plan?" asked John.

Dean smiled back at him a little. "It is so weird to hear that coming from you." John smiled a little before Dean looked back at the warehouse. "Diversion. Half of you distract the demons, but remember, don't let them near you. The rest of you, follow me. We move out in five."

The transgenics began checking their salt guns and iron guns and holy water as Dean looked back at Max. He motioned what his plan was, and Max nodded, turning to tell the other transgenics what to do. After a minute, Max nodded at Dean, bracing herself to move.

Dean looked back at his family. "Dad, Sam, you come with me." He looked at the transgenics. "Okay, go." Dean nodded at Max and watched her send half of her transgenics to distract the demons.

The transgenics ran out into the open, drawing the demons away from the building.

"Go," said Dean, climbing to his feet. He saw Max lead her half of the army towards the building. Within minutes, they had reached the back of the building, where Max joined him. "You get the civilians out. We'll deal with the demons."

Max nodded and led her team into the building, heading for the second floor. Dean led his team into the building, flooding the main floor. They had their weapons drawn, ready for the horrible army of demons that were sure to be there. Dean looked around the building in confusion, it was empty.

"What the—" muttered Dean.

"Hell?" came a voice behind him. Dean spun around to see a man with black eyes in the middle of the room. "Exactly."

Dean raised his salt gun, but the demon raised his hand, and everyone was flung to the warehouse walls. No one could move. Dean looked over to see his father and brother pinned next to him, but unhurt.

"Well, well, well," said the demon. "Dean Winchester…or should I say Alec…or should I say 494…" The demon frowned. "What is your name again?" He smiled wickedly.

"Gloat all you want, you son of a bitch," said Dean. "I'm still gonna send you back to hell."

"Oh, now that I'd like to see," said the demon.

"So, what's your big plan, huh?" said Dean. "Kill the transgenics? Enslave the human race? Bring on the apocalypse? Huh, what?"

The demon smiled. "Something like that."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You're never gonna win."

"Oh, I wouldn't bet on that," said the demon, smiling. "I already have. Especially now that I've got the Winchesters at my mercy."

Dean glared at him. "You touch my family, and I will end you."

"Oh, I already have," said the demon.

Dean frowned. "What?"

"You don't know?" said the demon. "You don't remember me? Then again, it's been years, and you never really caught a glimpse of me—"

"Who are you?" asked Dean with a hard voice.

The demon smiled as he drew close to the Winchesters. "Let's just say I'm an old friend." He blinked, and his black eyes turned yellow.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Dean stared at the Yellow-Eyed Demon. "So, what, black eyes was a smoke screen?"

Yellow-Eyes smiled again. "Well, I couldn't just come out and give away all my cards, now could I?"

"You son of a bitch!" John yelled suddenly.

Dean looked over at him. "Dad, what is it?"

"It's the demon that killed your mother," said John, glaring at Yellow-Eyes.

Dean looked back at the demon, glaring also. "Oh, you bastard."

Yellow-Eyes chuckled. "Well, this is interesting, isn't it?" He made a circle of the room, looking at the transgenics. "Turns out one of my psychic kids has a mutant brother. Who would've thought?"

"So, what's your big plan, huh?" said Dean. "Trap us? I gotta say, this is a long way to go to get rid of us."

"Oh, I'm not just here to get rid of you three," said Yellow-Eyes. "This is my chance to get rid of the demon-immune mutant spawn."

"You know about that?" asked Sam.

"The fact that these freaks can't be possessed?" said Yellow-Eyes, looking at Sam. "Of course. I knew I should've taken out that breeding cult when I had the chance."

Dean frowned. "What do they have to do with this?"

"You can't tell me you've never wondered why you were created," said Yellow-Eyes. "About why Manticore was connected to that breeding cult…It's all connected."

"Then why don't you enlighten me?" said Dean.

Yellow-Eyes smiled. "Okay…You caught me in a charitable mood." He leaned against a table in the middle of the room. "You were created to fight us." Dean frowned in confusion. "I believe you've already figured out that all of you were created immune to possession. Ever wondered why?"

"Skip the speech already," Dean muttered.

"Centuries ago, the leader of the breeding cult discovered the existence of demons," said Yellow-Eyes. "That's why the breeding cult was started. They wanted to create a race that was immune to demons to fight in the coming apocalypse. I'm sure you've heard Ames White talk about that. About the fact that a great darkness is coming and they are the ones that will survive…He was right…almost. They may be immune to possession, but they can still be killed. I'll make sure of that."

"So where do we fit in?" asked Dean.

Yellow-Eyes chuckled. "Wow, I've got a genius on my hands." He walked forward towards Dean. "Sandman was part of the cult, remember? He left them and created his own apocalypse-surviving race."

Dean's eyes widened. _It all makes sense now…except for one thing. _"Where does Max fit in?"

Yellow-Eyes frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Sandman created her with no junk DNA, saying that she was meant to end the apocalypse," said Dean.

Yellow-Eyes smiled. "Just a happy coincidence. She wasn't meant to do anything."

Dean noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, and he quickly looked over to see Max and her team sneaking into the warehouse. Dean knew he had to distract Yellow-Eyes. "So, what, killing my mother wasn't enough? Now you have to kill my people?"

"Of course," said Yellow-Eyes. "Can't have you freaks running about, can I? I have big plans."

"They've just been canceled," said Max, grabbing the demon from behind and throwing him into a devil's trap they'd drawn in the middle of the room. As soon as he was in the trap, the power holding everyone to the walls was released. Yellow-Eyes stood up, looking down at the devil's trap, and he glared up at Max. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"More like cat caught you off guard," said Dean with a smile. Max looked back at him and laughed a little.

"Now what do you plan to do?" said Yellow-Eyes. "Send me to hell? I've still got an army."

"You mean those black-eyed bitches outside we just sent back to hell?" said Max. "Yeah, some army."

Yellow-Eyes' face fell a little, but the overconfident smirk was back in a second. "Go ahead…send me back…but just a fair warning, it won't keep me down there for long."

"Long enough," said Dean. He immediately started in with the exorcism, having memorized the ritual with everyone else back at command central. As soon as he finished, the black smoke flew out of the guy's mouth, blowing out the window.

"Okay, who was that guy?" asked Max.

"He was the one that killed our mother," said Dean.

Max looked back at the body in the devil's trap. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," said Dean. "We'll get him eventually."

"So, what was that he was saying about an apocalypse and Sandman?" asked Max.

"Turns out, the breeding cult wanted a race that could fight demons…you know, immune to possession," said Dean. "Then, of course, Sandman left the cult and created Manticore, and…you know the rest."

"Huh," said Max. "That actually makes sense."

"You get everyone out?" asked Dean.

"Yeah," said Max. "Safe and sound."

"Then let's get us out of here," said Dean.

***********SN*************

The next day, Dean was packing up their things in command central when a knock came at the main doors. Mole opened them to reveal the mayor of Seattle standing there. Max tensed at her position up on the platform, thinking the mayor was about to blame them for the demons.

"Is Max here?" asked the mayor.

Max stepped down the platform, approaching the mayor. "I'm Max. And if you're about to fix us with the demon problem yesterday, I'm here to tell you—"

"I'm not here to blame you," said the mayor. "I'm here to commend you."

Max frowned. "You're what?"

"If it wasn't for you and your people, there's no telling what would've happened to the city," said the mayor. "You saved us. The townspeople called a meeting, voting to establish your people as part of our city."

Max's eyes were wide. "Seriously?"

"I think you have finally gained their respect," said the mayor. "Congratulations." He held out his hand.

Max shook his hand with a smile on her face. "Thank you so much."

"It was no trouble," said the mayor. "I wish your people well." With that, he left Terminal City.

Max turned with a stunned face towards Logan, who had come down the stairs towards her. Her face split into a wide grin as she launched herself at Logan. Max laughed and cheered as Logan spun her around in his arms. Cheers flew up from the transgenics in the building. Dean walked over to Max with a big grin. Max spotted him and eased out of Logan's arms. She threw herself at Dean, planting a big kiss on him.

"What was that for?" asked Dean, stunned.

"If it wasn't for you, we'd all be demon bait," said Max. "Thank you so much." She headed back for Logan, aiming for a kiss.

"Whoa!" said Dean, grabbing her arm and keeping her away from Logan.

Max stared at him. "What?"

"You just kissed me, remember?" asked Dean. Max's eyes widened at what she was about to do.

"Oh, God," said Max. She rushed off towards the bathroom to sterilize her face.

Logan looked at Dean. "Nice catch."

"You're welcome," said Dean. "Tell Max we'll be around. She can call us anytime."

"Will do," said Logan.

Dean, Sam and John walked out of Terminal City, heading back to the Impala.

"What now?" Dean asked John.

"You boys are right," said John.

"We are?" asked Sam, frowning.

"It scares the hell out of me," said John. "You two are all I've got. But I guess we are stronger as a family. So...we go after this damn thing...together."

Sam and Dean smiled. "Yes, Sir."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

"Alright, so how do we kill this thing?" asked Dean.

"I'm working on that," said John. "We need to visit a friend. His name is Daniel Elkins."

"Why?" asked Sam.

"I think he can help," said John. "I'll explain when we get there."

John led the way in his truck, with Sam and Dean in the Impala behind him. They arrived in Manning, Colorado, pulling up to a cabin in the middle of the woods. The three of them walked into the cabin. It was a mess.

"Looks like the maid didn't come today," said Dean.

"Something happened in here," said John. "Take a look around."

Sam spotted something on the inside of the door. "Hey, there's salt over here. Right inside the door."

John walked around the cabin to look as Dean and Sam searched the front rooms. Dean had found Elkins' journal and was looking through it.

"You mean like protection-against-demon salt, or, uh, 'oops, I spilled the popcorn' salt?" asked Dean.

"It's clearly a ring," said Sam. "You think this guy Elkins was a player?"

"Definitely," said Dean.

Sam came over to see what Dean was looking at. "That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's."

"Except this dates back to the 60's," said Dean. They moved to the study as John joined them.

"Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one," said Sam.

"Looks like he put up a hell of a fight, too," said Dean.

"Yeah," said Sam.

They carefully start looking around the room. Sam moved over to the desk and Dean prodded at an empty box with his foot while John looked through papers on the floor. Dean carefully moved across the littered floor and spotted blood and scratching in the floor. He crouched down to take a look.

"Got something?" asked John.

"I don't know," said Dean. "Some scratches in the floor."

"Death throes maybe?" asked Sam.

"Maybe," said Dean. Dean grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil off the desk. He put the paper down on the floor and did a rubbing of the scratches. "Or maybe a message." He handed the bloody paper to Sam. "Look familiar?"

"Three letters, six digits – the location and combination of a post office box," said Sam. "It's a mail drop."

"Let me see that," said John. He grabbed the paper from Sam, looking at it. "We gotta go."

************SN*************

At the post office, John entered the combination in the mail box and pulled out a letter.

Sam caught a look at the front. "J.W.? He knew you?"

"Elkins was an old friend," said John. "He's the one that taught me a lot about hunting."

"How come you never told us about him?" asked Sam.

"We had kind of a falling out," said John, opening the letter. "'If you're reading this, I'm already dead.'" He took a moment to read the short letter. "That son of a bitch."

"What is it?" asked Dean.

"He had it the whole time," said John.

"Dad, what?" asked Sam.

"When we searched the place, did either of you see a gun, an antique, a Colt revolver?" asked John. "Did you see it?"

"Uh, there was an old case but it was empty," said Dean.

"They have it," said John.

"You mean whatever killed Elkins?" asked Dean.

"We got to pick up their trail," said John, heading for the door to the post office.

"Wait, what's going on?" asked Sam.

"If Elkins was telling the truth, we got to find this gun," said John.

"The gun?" said Sam. "Why?"

"Because it's important, that's why," said John.

"Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet," said Sam.

"They were what Danny Elkins killed best – vampires," said John.

"Vampires?" said Dean. "I thought there was no such thing?"

"You never even mentioned them, Dad," said Sam.

"I thought they were extinct," said John. "I had thought Elkins and others had wiped them out. I was wrong. Most vampire lore is crap. A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust – that part's true. They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late." He headed out of the post office, heading for his truck. "Come on, let's grab a room."

****************SN**********************

Dean and Sam were asleep, fully clothed, on the beds while John was sitting at the table listening to a police scanner.

"Unit 22, let me confirm," said a cop over the scanner. "Mile marker 41, an abandoned car, you need a workup?"

"Copy that. Possible 207. Better get forensics out here."

John put the scanner down and picked up his jacket off the back of the chair. "Sam, Dean. Let's go." He hit their feet, waking them up. Dean grunted from the bed. "Picked up a police call."

"What happened?" asked Sam.

"A couple called 911," said John. "Found a body in the street. Cops got there, everyone was missing. It's the vampires."

"How do you know?" asked Sam.

John headed for the door. "Just follow me, okay?" Sam got to his feet and followed John.

"Vampires," laughed Dean, putting his jacket on. "It gets funnier every time I hear it."

**************SN*************************

Dean and Sam waited by the car while John walked back from talking to a police man.

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him," said Sam.

"Oh, don't tell me it's already starting," said Dean.

"What's starting?" said Sam. Dean ignored him, and Sam sighed. "Can you hear what he's saying?"

Dean nodded. "Can't make heads or tails of why it's connected to the vampires, though." John walked up to them. "What do you got?"

"It was them alright," said John. "It looks like they're heading west. We're gonna have to double back to get around that detour."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Sam.

"Sam..." began Dean.

"I just wanna know we're going in the right direction," said Sam.

"We are," said John.

"How do you know?" asked Sam.

John pulled something from his pocket and showed it to them. "I found this." He handed it to Dean.

Dean looked at the tooth. "It's a ... vampire fang."

"Not fangs – teeth," said John. "A second set descends when they attack." He looked at Sam. "Any more questions?" Sam was silent. "Alright, let's get out of here. We're losing daylight." He started to walk back to his truck. "Hey, and Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were gonna ruin it."

Dean looked down at the Impala as he and Sam climbed into it.

**************SN********************

Sam drove down the road as Dean looked through the research.

"'Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten,'" read Dean. "'Smaller packs are sent out to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest, where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks.' I wonder if that's what happened to that 911 couple?"

"That's probably what Dad's thinking," said Sam. "Of course, it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks."

"So it is starting," said Dean.

"What?" asked Sam.

"Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year, now we're not with him for more than a couple hours and there's static already?"

"No. Look, I'm happy he's okay, alright? And I'm happy that we're all working together again."

"Good."

"It's just the way he treats us like we're children."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh, God."

"He, he barks orders at us, Dean. He expects us to follow him without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal."

"He does what he does for a reason."

"What reason?"

"Our job!" said Dean. Sam scoffed. "There's no time to argue. There's no margin for error, alright? It's just the way the old man runs things."

"Yeah, well maybe that worked when we were kids, but not anymore, alright? Not after everything you and I have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line and letting him run the whole show?"

Dean looked at him. "If that's what it takes. I mean, I think he's making up for the fact that he couldn't call the shots back in Seattle. So, just, go with him alright? He's letting us tag along. Isn't that enough?"

Sam rolled his eyes as they continued following their father.

*****************SN***********************

That night, they were still driving, and Dean was on his cell phone.

"Yeah, alright, got it," said Dean. He hung up the phone. "Pull off the next exit."

"Why?" asked Sam.

"'Cause Dad thinks we got the vampire's trail," said Dean.

"How?" asked Sam.

"I don't know, he didn't say," said Dean.

Sam jumped on the gas and sped past John's truck. He pulled ahead and then turned the car sideways in the road, forcing John to stop. Sam jumped out of the car.

"Oh, crap," muttered Dean. "Here we go. Sam!" He climbed out of the car also.

"What the hell was that?" asked John as he got out of the truck.

"We need to talk," said Sam.

"About what?" asked John.

"About everything," said Sam. "Where are we going, Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?"

Dean stood next to Sam and John. "Sammy, come on, we can Q & A after we kill all the vampires."

"Your brother's right," said John. "We don't have time for this."

"Last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous to be together," said Sam. "Now, out of the blue, you need our help. Now, obviously something big is going down and we want to know what!"

"Get back in the car," said John.

"No," said Sam.

"I said get back in the damn car," said John.

"Yeah, and I said no," said Sam.

"Alright, you made your point, tough guy," said Dean. "Look, we're all tired, we can talk about this later." Dean grabbed Sam and shoved him back. "Sammy, I mean it, come on." He and Sam turned towards the Impala.

"This is why I left in the first place," muttered Sam.

"What'd you say?" asked John.

Sam turned back to John. "You heard me."

"Yeah, you left," said John. "Your brother and me – we needed you. You walked away, Sam." He shoved Sam in the shoulder. "You walked away!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Dean yelled.

"You were the one who said 'Don't come back,' Dad," yelled Sam. "You're the one who closed that door, not me! You were just pissed off you couldn't control me anymore!"

John grabbed Sam, and Dean got in between them to break them up.

"I said stop it!" Dean yelled. "Stop it! Stop it! That's enough!" He broke John and Sam apart and stepped between them. He turned to John. "That means you, too." Sam got back in the car, and John stormed off to his truck. Dean looked at both of them. "Terrific."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

The Winchesters hid in the woods near a barn, watching two of the vampires enter as they squinted in the sunlight.

"Son of a bitch," said Dean. "So they're really not afraid of the sun?"

"Direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn," said John. "The only way to kill them is by beheading. And, yeah, they sleep during the day. It doesn't mean they won't wake up."

"So, I guess walking right in is not our best option," said Dean.

"Actually, that's the plan," said John.

They walked back to the Impala and truck, getting geared up at the trunks. Dean opened the jumbled weapons locker in the Impala and propped it open with a shotgun. John's truck had a powered weapon's locker that slid out and opened up. Everything in it had its own place and was neatly organized.

"Hey, Dad, I got an extra machete if you need one," said Dean, holding one out.

John took out a huge machete. "Think I'm okay, thanks."

"Wow," said Dean. He and Sam strapped on their machetes.

John leaned against his truck and sighed. "So...You boys really want to know about this Colt?"

Dean and Sam looked at each other and back at John.

"Yes, Sir," said Sam.

"It's just a story...a legend, really," said John. "Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter. Back in 1835, when Haley's comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun...a special gun. He made it for a hunter – a man like us, only on horseback. The story goes, he made 13 bullets. This hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. Somehow, Daniel got his hands on it. They say...they say this gun can kill anything."

"Kill anything, like supernatural anything?" asked Dean.

"Like the demon," said Sam.

"Yeah, the demon," said John. "Ever since I picked up its trail, I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. Find the gun...we may have it."

The Winchesters snuck into the barn through a window. John went off to find the gun. There were vampires in hammocks all over the place, and Dean and Sam moved quietly past them. John moved down a hallway to Luthor and Kate's bedroom. Sam found a woman tied up and crouched down beside her. Dean moved away from the sleeping vampires. John saw the Colt in a gun belt slung over the bedpost. He stepped down into their bedroom. Dean and Sam were crouched down beside the woman when they heard an noise.

"There's more," Dean whispered.

He moved off to take a look. He saw people in a mesh cage, but it was padlocked shut. Sam was untying the woman. Dean grasped the padlock and pulled, popping it off. It made a loud noise, and he froze. Sam looked over at the noise. The sleeping vampires stirred, but didn't wake. John crept up to the bed. The woman started to wake up as Sam was untying her.

"Hey, hey, shh," said Sam. "I'm here to help you."

The woman saw him and started to scream in an other-worldly voice. Sam jumped back, his hand on his machete, and Dean moved over to Sam. John had his hand on the gun when the woman screamed, and Luthor and Kate woke up at the noise. Luthor grabbed John and hurled him across the room. John grabbed a bottle and threw it through the window, letting in the sunlight. Dean and Sam were getting ready to fight when they heard John yell from the other room.

"Boys, run!" John yelled.

They took off, the vampires right behind them. They burst through the barn doors and into the woods to where their vehicles were parked. They stopped to look back for John.

"Dad?" Dean called. Dad!

John came running through the woods, and the boys turned to run to their car. "They won't follow. They'll wait till tonight." They stopped to look at him. "Once a vampire gets your scent, it's for life."

"What the hell do we do now?" asked Dean.

"You've gotta find the nearest funeral home, that's what," said John.

*******************SN****************************

Sam paced the floor in the motel room while John worked at the table. "It shouldn't be taking this long. I should go help." He moved toward the door.

"Dean's got it," said John. "I mean, he's a transgenic, right? He can handle it." Sam stopped and turned to him, then kept pacing. "Sammy."

"Yeah," said Sam.

"I don't think I ever told you this, but, the day you were born you know what I did?"

"No."

"I put a hundred bucks into a savings account for you. I did the same thing for your brother. It was a college fund. And every month I'd put in another hundred dollars until...Anyway, my point is, Sam, that...this is never the life that I wanted for you."

"Then why'd you get so mad when I left?"

"You gotta understand something. After your Mother passed all I saw was evil, everywhere. And all I cared about was, was keeping you boys alive. I wanted you prepared...ready. So somewhere along the line I, uh...I stopped being your father. And I – I became your, your drill sergeant." Sam came over to sit down. "So when you said that you wanted to go away to school, all I could think about, my only thought was that you were going to be alone...vulnerable. Sammy, it just – it never occurred to me what you wanted. I just couldn't accept the fact that you and me – we're just different." Sam laughed ironically. "What?"

"We're not different. Not anymore. With what happened to Mom and Jess..." he chuckled, "we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone."

"I guess you're right, son."

"Hey, Dad? Whatever happened to that college fund?"

"Spent it on ammo."

They laughed, and Dean walked in.

"Whoo!" said Dean. "Man, there's some heavy security to protect a bunch of dead guys."

"Did you get it?" asked John. Dean reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bottle in a paper bag. He pulled the bottle out of the bag and handed it to John. "You know what to do."

He put bottle down on the desk. It had blood in it.

********************SN***********************

The hood of the Impala was up on the side of the road, and Dean was leaning in, like he was trying to figure out what was wrong.

"Car trouble?" asked a woman as she walked up. "Let me give you a lift...take you back to my place."

Dean could detect that her body temperature was lower than normal, signaling she was a vampire. "I'll pass. I usually draw the line at necrophilia."

"Oh..." said the vampire. She backhanded him, and he fell down.

Dean knew he had to play the part of the victim to give his father and brother a chance to use the dead man's blood. He couldn't fight back. Another vampire, a man, came out of the trees. The female leaned down and grabbed Dean's face. She picked him up off the ground.

"I don't normally get this friendly till the second date, but..." said Dean.

"You know, we could have some fun," said the female. "I always like to make new friends." She kissed him.

"Oh, sorry," said Dean. "I don't really stay with a chick that long. Definitely not eternity."

The male suddenly got shot through the chest with a crossbow bolt and so did the female.

"Damn it," said the female. John and Sam came out of the woods with crossbows. John came up to Kate while Sam covered the other vampire with his machete. "Barely even stings."

"Give it time, sweetheart," said John. "That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood. It's like poison to you, isn't it?" The female passed out, and Dean caught her. "Load her up. I'll take care of this one."

He turned to the other vampire and took out his machete. He nodded at Sam, and Sam backed away. John decapitated the vampire with one stroke.

*******************SN************************

They had lit a bonfire, and Dean and John were taking some things out of the truck to burn. John handed Dean a bundle. They walked over to the bonfire. The female, Kate, was tied to a tree on the downwind side of the fire.

"Toss this on the fire," said John. "Saffron, skunk cabbage and trillium – it'll block our scent, and hers, until we're ready."

"This stuff stinks," said Dean.

"Well, that's the idea," said John. "Dust your clothes with the ashes and you'll stand a chance of not being detected."

"You sure they'll come after her?" asked Sam.

"Yeah," said John. "Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun. But the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time."

"Half hour ought to do it," said Sam.

"Then I want you out of the area as fast as you can," said John.

"But –" began Sam.

"Whoa, Dad, you can't take care of them all yourself," said Dean.

"I'll have her, and the Colt," said John.

"But after," said Sam. "We're gonna meet up, right? Use the gun together. Right?"

"Of course," said John.

"But what about the vampires?" asked Sam. "You need help."

"I can handle it," said John.

"You know, I don't get you," said Sam. "You can't treat us like this."

"Like what?" asked John.

"Like children," said Sam.

"You are my children," said John. "I'm trying to keep you safe."

"Dad, all due respect, but, uh, that's a bunch of crap," said Dean. Sam and John looked at Dean in surprise.

"Excuse me?" said John.

"You know what Sammy and I've been hunting," said Dean. "Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe."

"It's not the same thing, Dean," said John.

"Then what is it?" asked Dean. "I mean, it's just a couple of vampires.

"These vampires…they're bad sons of bitches," said John. "I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive."

"You mean you can't be as reckless," said Dean.

"Look, your Mother's death...it almost killed me," said John. "I can't watch my children die, too. I won't."

"What happens if you die?" asked Dean. "Dad, what happens if you die, and we could've done something about it. You know, I've been thinking, I – I think maybe that Sammy's right about this one. I think we should do this together. We're stronger as a family, Dad, we just are, you know it. I mean, you said it yourself."

"We're running out of time," said John. "You do your job and you get out of the area. That's an order." He walked away.

*********************SN****************************

John drove his truck fast down the highway. He had Kate in the seat beside him. He saw two sets of headlights appear on the road behind him. He sped up. The cars suddenly disappeared from behind John. John came around a corner, and the vampires were blocking the road. He stopped the truck and turned it off.

"Get out," said Luthor. John got out of the truck, but didn't come around the door. "Who are you?"

"Name's Winchester," said John.

"Where are your friends?" asked Luthor.

"Cleaning out your nest," said John.

"Where's Kate?" asked Luthor.

John had the end of a rope in one hand and a very large knife in the other. "Come here, sweetheart." He wound the rope around his hand, pulling Kate to him. He put the knife to her throat.

"Kate, you alright?" asked Luthor.

"Dead man's blood," said Kate.

"You son of a bitch," said Luthor.

"I want the Colt – Elkins' gun," said John. "Trade."

"Is that what this is all about?" said Luthor. "I mean, you can't shoot us all, right? We'll kill you."

"Oh, I don't need it for you. I'm saving it for something else. Put the Colt down, or she goes first."

"Alright. Just don't hurt her." Luthor put the gun down on the ground in front of John.

"Back up," said John. Luthor held out his hands and backed up a few steps. "Further."

Luthor backed up a few steps more. John walked toward the gun and picked it up. He didn't see that Kate was almost out of the ropes around her hands.

"That's a nice move," said Luthor. "You almost made it."

Kate came around and hit John in the face. He went flying back against his truck and dropped the gun. Luthor stalked up to him and hit him, sending John through the air to crash into the driver's side of the truck, smashing the window. As Luthor advanced on him, one of the vampires was suddenly hit with a crossbow bolt. Dean and Sam came running out of the woods. Dean took aim with the crossbow again and hit another vampire. Sam was hit by Luthor, and he dropped his machete. Dean dropped the crossbow and ran for Sam, picking up his machete at the same time. Luthor hauled Sam to his feet and grabbed him around the neck.

"Don't!" said Luthor. Dean stopped in his tracks, machete in his hand. "I'll break his neck. Put the blade down." When Dean didn't immediately comply, Luthor tightened his grip on Sam's throat. Dean finally gave in and dropped the knife. "You people. Why can't you just leave us alone. We have as much right to live as you do."

Knowing the vampires didn't know that Dean had the advantage, Dean smiled wickedly at Luthor. "I don't think so."

Dean blurred over to Luthor, wrenching his arm from around Sam's neck and pulling his brother away from the vampire. Luthor spun, trying to figure out what happened, and a bullet hit him in the forehead. John lowered the Colt and watched as Luthor's head lit up with a blue light.

"Luthor!" Kate yelled. Luthor crumpled to the ground, dead. Kate made a lunge at John, but another vampire grabbed her.

"Kate, don't!" she said. They got into their cars and drove away.

John smiled at his boys. "What do you know…it does work." He looked back up at his sons again. "You know, you boys disobeyed a direct order back there."

"Saved your ass, though," said Dean.

John smiled. "That you did. Come on, let's get back to the motel."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

John sat at the desk in the motel room, looking around at all the articles and papers on the walls. Sam leaned against a counter, and Dean looked at the Colt sitting on some papers.

John gestured around the room. "So, this is it. This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we've been searching for this demon, right? Not a trace, just nothing until about a year ago. For the first time, I picked up a trail."

"And that's when you took off," said Dean.

"Yeah," said John. Dean glanced at Sam. "That's right. The demon must have come out of hiding or hibernation."

Dean walked over to John. "Alright, so what's this trail you found?"

"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California," said John. "Houses burn down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us."

"Families with infants?" asked Sam.

"Yeah," said John. "The night of the kid's six month birthday."

"I was six months old that night?" asked Sam.

"Exactly six months," said John.

"So, basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason, same way it came for me?" asked Sam. "So, Mom's death, Jessica – it's all cause of me?"

"We don't know that, Sam," said Dean.

"Oh really, cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Dean!" yelled Sam.

"For the last time, what happened to them is not your fault," said Dean.

"Yeah, you're right, it's not my fault, but it's my problem!"

"No, it's not your problem. It's our problem!"

"Okay," said John, standing. "That's enough." He walked around the desk.

"So, why is it doing it?" asked Sam. "What does it want?"

"Look, I wish I had more answers," said John. "I do. I've always been one step behind it. Look, I've never gotten there in time to save..." He stopped, not able to finish the sentence.

"Alright, so how do we find it before it hits again?" asked Dean.

"There are signs," said John. "Look, it took me a while to see the pattern, but in the days before these fires, signs crop up in an area – cattle deaths, uh, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked, and..."

"These things happened in Lawrence," said Dean.

"The week before your Mother died," said John. He looked at Sam. "And in Palo Alto...before Jessica. And these signs—they're starting again."

"Where?" asked Sam.

"Salvation, Iowa," said John.

***********************SN***************************

John's truck drove into the town limits of Salvation with the Impala right behind him. He pulled off the road and stopped, the Impala pulling in behind him. John got out of the truck, obviously upset. Dean and Sam also got out of the car.

"Damn it!" said John.

"What is it?" asked Dean.

John hit his truck as he walked to Dean. "Son of a bitch!"

"What is it?" asked Dean.

"I just got a call from Caleb," said John.

"Is he okay?" asked Dean.

"He's fine," said John. "Jim Murphy's dead."

"Pastor Jim?" asked Sam. John nodded. "How?"

"Throat was slashed," said John. "He bled out. Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place."

"A demon," said Dean. John looked at him. "The demon?"

"I don't know," said John. "Could be he just got – he got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're getting close."

"What do you want to do?" asked Dean.

"Now we act like every second counts," said John. "There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We spit up, we cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week."

"Dad, that could be dozens of kids," said Sam. "How the hell are we gonna know which one's the right one?"

"We'll check them all, that's how," said John. "You got any better ideas?"

"No, Sir," said Sam.

John turned back to his truck, and Dean went back to the Impala. John stopped with his back to Dean and just looked down at the ground, obviously very upset by the news of Pastor Jim. Dean noticed.

"Dad?" asked Dean.

"Yeah," said John, turning back to Dean. "It's Jim. You know, I can't..." he sighed. "This ends now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes."

John got into his truck and continued down the road into Salvation, the Impala right behind him.

***********************SN*****************************

Dean sat in the motel room at the table by the door, digging through his research, using his enhanced mind to super-read. John sat on the bed, doing the same, only maybe not so super.

John glanced over at him. "Are you even reading that?"

Dean chuckled a little. "Of course I am. I'm just that good."

John laughed a little as the motel door opened. Sam walked into the room, sweating and breathing heavily. He flung his backpack down on the floor and walked over to the kitchen, rubbing his head.

"Sam, you okay?" asked Dean.

"I just had another vision, Dean," said Sam. "I know who the demon's going after. I met her and her daughter today. It's definitely them."

"A vision?" asked John.

"Yes," said Sam. "I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling."

"Alright, and you think it's going to happen to this woman you met because..." said John.

"Because I saw it happen, Dad," said Sam. "Look, guys, visions or no visions the fact is that we know the demon is coming tonight. And this family is going to go through the same hell that we went through."

"No, they're not," said John. "No one is... ever again."

Sam's cell phone rang, and he picked it up. "Hello?"

"Sam?" said a female voice.

"Who is this?" asked Sam.

"Well, we've never met, but I think we have a mutual acquaintance," said the woman. "He's the one that watched her mother burn.

Sam's anger flared as he realized this person knew the Yellow-Eyed Demon. "Who are you?"

"You can call me Meg," she replied. "Let me speak to your Dad."

Sam looked up at John, who walked over. "My Dad. I don't know where my Dad is."

"It's time for the grown-ups to talk, Sam," said Meg. "Let me speak to him now."

John held out his hand for the phone, and Sam reluctantly handed it over. John walked to the other side of the room. "This is John."

"Howdy, John. I'm Meg. I'm a friend of your boys. I'm also the one who watched Jim Murphy choke on his own blood." John clenched his jaw, angry. "Still there, John Boy?"

"I'm here," said John.

"Well, that was yesterday. Today I'm in Lincoln...visiting another old friend of yours. He wants to say hi."

John suddenly heard someone else's voice over the other line.

"John, whatever they do, don't give..." said the voice, which was suddenly cut off.

"Caleb?" said John. Dean and Sam looked at him. "Caleb. You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go."

"We know you have the Colt, John," said Meg.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said John.

"Oh, okay," said Meg. "So, listen to this."

John heard a slice and then heard someone choking. "Caleb...Caleb!"

"Can you hear that? That's the sound of your friend dying. Now let's try this again. We know you have the gun, John. Word travels fast. So, as far as we're concerned, you just declared war. And this is what war looks like. It has casualties."

"I'm gonna kill you, you know that?"

Meg laughed. "Oh, John, please. Mind your blood pressure. So, this is the thing – we're going to keep doing what we're doing. And your friends, anyone who's ever helped you, gave you shelter, anyone you ever loved. They'll all die, unless you give us that gun." John sighed. "I'm waiting, Johnny. Better answer before the buzzer."

"Okay," said John.

"Sorry? I didn't quite get that."

"I said okay. I'll bring you the Colt."

"There's a warehouse in Lincoln on the corner of Wabash and Lake. You're gonna meet me there."

"It's gonna take me about a day's drive to get there."

"Meet me there at midnight tonight."

"That's impossible. I can't get there in time, and I can't just carry a gun on a plane."

"Oh, then I guess your friends die, don't they? If you do decide to make it, come alone." She hung up.

John hung up. "That demonic little bitch."

"So, you think Meg is a demon?" asked Sam.

"Either that or she's possessed by one," said John. "It doesn't really matter."

"What do we do?" asked Dean.

"I'm going to Lincoln," said John.

"What?" said Dean.

"It doesn't seem like I have a choice," said John. "If I don't go, a lot of people die. Our friends die."

"Dad, the demon is coming tonight, for Monica and her family," said Sam. "That gun is all we got. You can't just hand it over."

"Who said anything about handing it over?" said John. "Look, besides us and a couple of vampires, no one's really seen the gun. No one knows what it looks like."

"So, what, you're just gonna pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?" said Dean.

"Antique store," said John.

"You're gonna hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?" said Dean.

"Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference," said John.

"Yeah, but for how long?" said Dean. "What happens when she figures it out?"

"I just – I just need to buy a few hours, that's all," said John.

"You mean for Dean and me," said Sam. John looked at him. "You want us to stay here, and kill this demon by ourselves?"

"No, Sam," said John. "I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school. I want, I want Dean to have a home. I want Mary alive. I just... I just want this to be over."

****************************SN***********************************

John and Sam were at the back of the truck on a back road, putting things back in John's weapon locker. Dean drove up in the Impala as John closed the locker and lifted the tail gate of the truck.

"Did you get it?" asked John.

Dean took a brown paper bag out of his jacket as he came over to them and handed it to John. John took the fake Colt out of the bag.

"It's as close to the real thing that I could find," said Dean. "I looked closely. It's flawless." John nodded. "You know this is a trap, don't you? That's why Meg wants you to come alone."

"I can handle her," said John. "I got a whole arsenal loaded – holy water, Mandaic amulets..."

"Dad..." said Dean.

"What?" asked John.

"Promise me something?"

"What's that?"

"This thing goes south, just get the hell out. Don't get yourself killed, alright? You're no good to us dead."

"Same goes for you. Alright, listen to me." He took the real Colt out of his jacket pocket. "They made the bullets special for this Colt. There's only four of them left. Without them, this gun is useless. You make every shot count."

"Yes, Sir," said Sam.

"I've been waiting a long time for this fight," said John. "Now it's here, and I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you boys now. It's your fight, you finish this. You finish what I started. You understand?"

Dean just looked at him, knowing what John was implying and not liking it. Sam nodded. John handed the Colt to Dean, who put it in his jacket pocket.

"We'll see you soon, Dad," said Sam.

John smiled and nodded, looking at Dean. He put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "I'll see you later." John got into the truck, and they watched him drive away.

"Later," said Dean.

****************************SN*************************

Dean and Sam were watching Monica and her family from the Impala parked across the street. The Colt was sitting on the seat between them.

"Maybe we can tell them there's a gas leak," said Sam. "Might get them out of the house for a few hours."

"Yeah, and how many times has that actually worked for us?" asked Dean.

"Yeah," said Sam, thinking. He shrugged after a moment. "Could always tell them the truth." Dean looked at him.

"Nah," they both said.

"I know," said Sam. "I know, I know. It's just – with what's coming for these people..."

"Sam, we only got one move, and you know it, alright? We got to wait for that demon to show itself, and then...we get it before it gets them."

"I wonder how Dad's doing?"

"I'd feel a lot better if we were there backing him up."

"I'd feel a lot better if he were here backing us up."

They looked over at the house. They saw the curtains being closed as the family got ready for bed.

"This is weird," said Sam.

"What?"

"After all these years, we're finally here. It doesn't seem real."

"We just got to keep our heads and do our job, like always."

"Yeah, but this isn't like always."

"True."

"Dean, uh...I want to thank you."

Dean frowned. "For what?"

"For everything. You've always had my back, you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone, I could always count on you. And now... I don't know. I just wanted to let you know. Just in case."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you kidding me?"

"What?"

"Don't say just in case something happens to you. I don't want to hear that freakin' speech, man. Nobody's dying tonight. Not us, not that family, nobody... Except that demon. That evil son of a bitch isn't getting any older than tonight, you understand me?" Sam nodded, and Dean turned back to the house. He pulled out his cell phone, trying to reach someone several times. "Dad's not answering."

"Maybe Meg was late. Maybe cell reception's bad."

"Yeah, well..."

The car stereo suddenly turned on and started making weird noises.

"Dean, wait." Sam started turning the dial. "Listen." The wind picked up, and the lights in the house started to flicker. Dean looked at Sam. "It's coming."

They jumped out of the car. Dean picked the lock on the front door of the house. They went in, and Dean quietly closed the door behind them. Sam moved further into the house. Suddenly, a baseball bat came swinging at Dean's head. Dean, of course, ducked and caught the man off guard, pinning him against the wall.

"Mr. Holt, please!" said Sam.

"Be quiet and listen to me," said Dean. "Be quiet and listen to me. We're trying to help you, okay?"

Monica called down from upstairs. "Charlie, is everything okay down there?"

"Monica, get the baby!" Charlie yelled.

"Don't go in the nursery!" yelled Sam, dashing for the stairs.

"You stay away from her!" yelled Charlie.

He managed to push Dean away, but Dean backhanded him, knocking him out. He lifted Charlie easily on his shoulders and took him out of the house. Sam ran down the upstairs hallway, entering the nursery to see Monica halfway on the ceiling and the Yellow-Eyed Demon at the crib. Sam fired the Colt, but the demon disappeared. Monica was dropped from the ceiling.

"Where the hell did it go?" said Sam.

"My baby!" said Monica. "Rosie!"

Sam picked Monica up off the floor, and she tried to get at Rosie. Dean ran in, right past Sam and up to the crib.

"Get her out of here!" said Dean. "I got it!"

Sam pulled Monica out of the room while Dean gently grabbed Rosie out of her crib. Monica was still screaming for her baby.

"Dean's got her!" said Sam.

As Dean pulled Rosie out of her crib, the crib burst into flames. The nursery window exploded in flames. Sam and Monica came out the front door with Dean right behind them, holding Rosie. Charlie was on the front lawn.

"You get away from my family!" said Charlie.

"No, Charlie, don't!" said Monica. "They saved us! They saved us." She turned to Dean and took Rosie from him. She then went into her husband's arms. "Thank you."

Sam turned to look at the house. He was shocked to see the demon through the upstairs nursery window, looking down at them through the flames. "It's still in there." He made a lunge at the house, but Dean grabbed him and dragged him away.

"Sam, no!" said Dean.

"Dean, let me go!" said Dean. "It's still in there!"

"It's burning to the ground!" said Dean. "It's suicide!"

"I don't care!"

"I do!" said Dean. "I'll go, okay? I'm faster."

Sam nodded and handed over the Colt. Dean blurred up to the nursery, but the demon had already vanished.

"Dammit," said Dean.

He turned away from the flames, but they had reached the stairs, cutting off his exit. He ran to the other side of the house, jumping out the second story window. He ran around to the front lawn.

"What happened?" asked Sam. "I didn't hear a gunshot."

"He vanished," said Dean. They heard sirens in the distance. "Come on, we gotta go."

************************SN***********************

Dean paced back and forth in the motel room, trying to call John on his cell. Sam was just sitting on one of the beds, staring at the floor.

"Come on, Dad," said Dean. "Answer your phone, damn it." He stopped pacing and hung up. "Something's wrong." Sam was silent. "You hear me? Something's happened."

"If you had just let me go in there, I could have ended all this," said Sam. "Because we waited, he got away."

Dean walked over to him. "Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life."

Sam looked at him. "You don't know that."

"So, what? You're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?"

Sam stood. "Yeah. Yeah, you're damn right I am."

"Yeah, well, that's not going to happen – not as long as I'm around."

"What the hell are you talking about, Dean? We've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about."

"Sam, I want to waste it. I do, okay? But it's not worth dying over."

"What?"

"I mean it. If hunting this demon means you getting yourself killed - then I hope we never find the damn thing."

"That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom."

"You said it yourself once – that no matter what we do, they're gone. And they're never coming back."

Sam grabbed Dean and slammed him up against the wall, pinning him there. "Don't you say that! Don't you...not after all this, don't you say that."

"Sam, look...The three of us, that's all we have. And that's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together, man." Sam let him go, patting the front of Dean's shirt. "Without you and Dad…"

Sam let him go and turned away. "Dad." He looked back at Dean. "He should have called by now. Try him again."

Dean picked up his cell phone and dialed.

"You boys really screwed up this time," said a feminine voice on the other one. Dean knew it couldn't be anyone other than Meg.

Dean looked up at Sam. "Where is he?" Sam looked up at him in shock.

"You're never gonna see your father again," said Meg.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Dean hung up his phone. "They've got Dad."

"Meg?" asked Sam. Dean nodded. "What'd she say?"

"I just told you, Sammy," said Dean, upset. "Okay. Okay." Dean took the Colt and tucked it into the back of his jeans.

"What are you doing, Dean?" asked Sam.

Dean grabbed his duffle bag. "We got to go."

"Why?"

Dean put on his jacket. "Because the demon knows we're in Salvation, alright. It knows we got the Colt. It's got Dad – it's probably coming for us next."

"Good. We've still got three bullets left. Let it come."

"Listen, tough guy, we're not ready, okay? We don't know how many of them are out there. Now, we're no good to anybody dead. We're leaving...now!"

Dean and Sam piled into the Impala, speeding down the interstate with Dean behind the wheel.

"I'm telling you, Dean, we could have taken him," said Sam.

"What we need is a plan," said Dean. "Now, they're probably keeping Dad alive, we just gotta figure out where. They're gonna wanna trade him for the gun." Sam just shook his head, and Dean glanced over at him. "What?"

"Dean, if that were true, why didn't Meg mention a trade? Dad, he might be..."

"Don't!"

"Look, I don't want to believe it any more than you. But if he is, all the more reason to kill this damn thing. We still have the Colt. We can still finish the job."

"Screw the job, Sam!"

"Dean, I'm just trying to do what he would want. He would want us to keep going."

"Quit talking about him like he's dead already! Listen to me, everything stops until we get him back, you understand me? Everything!"

Sam paused to think. "So how do we find him?"

"Maybe we go to Lincoln. Start at the warehouse where he was taken."

"Come on, Dean, you really think these demons are going to leave a trail?"

Dean hesitated. "You're right. We need help."

The next day, they pulled into Bobby Singer's junkyard. They left the car and entered the house. Bobby let them in and began gathering supplies. He came back into the room with two silver flasks with crosses on them and handed one to Dean. Sam was sitting at a cluttered desk reading a very large book.

"Here you go," said Bobby.

"What is this – holy water?" asked Dean.

"That one is," said Bobby, holding out the other flask. "This is whiskey." He took a swig of whiskey and handed it to Dean, who also drank.

"Bobby, thanks," said Dean. "Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure we should come."

"Nonsense, your Daddy needs help," said Bobby.

"Well, yeah, but last time we saw you, I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. Cocked the shotgun and everything."

"Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people."

"Yeah, I guess he does."

"None of that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back."

"Bobby, this book...I've never seen anything like it," said Sam.

Bobby walked over to Sam and sat on the corner of the desk. "Key of Solomon? It's the real deal, alright."

Dean came over to them. "Man, knows his stuff."

"I'll tell you something else, too," said Bobby. "This is some serious crap you boys stepped in."

"Oh, yeah?" asked Sam. "How's that?"

"Normal year, I hear of, say, three demonic possessions," said Bobby. "Maybe four, tops."

"Yeah?" said Dean.

"This year I heard of twenty-seven so far," said Bobby. "You get what I'm saying? More and more demons are walking among us – a lot more."

"Do you know why?" asked Sam.

"No, but I know it's something big," said Bobby. "The storm's coming, and you boys, your Daddy – you are smack in the middle of it." The dog started barking outside. "Rumsfeld." As Bobby went over to the window, the dog stopped barking with a whine. He looked out the window and saw the chain hanging broken and the dog nowhere in sight. "Something's wrong."

At that moment, a woman kicked in the door and sauntered in.

"No more crap, okay?" said the woman.

Recognizing her voice as Meg, Dean slipped the holy water flask out of his pocket. Dean came at her, unscrewing the flask, but Meg hit him and sent him flying into a stack of books. He appeared to be knocked out. Sam stepped in front of Bobby, placing himself between Bobby and Meg.

"I want the Colt, Sam – the real Colt – right now," said Meg. Sam and Bobby slowly moved across the room, and Meg followed them.

"We don't have it on us," said Sam. "We buried it."

"Didn't I say 'no more crap'?" said Meg. "I swear – after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you two chuckleheads. Lackluster, men. I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?" They came to a stop in the living room.

Dean stepped into the doorway behind her. "Actually, we were counting on it." Meg turned to look at him. Dean stared at her and then looked up at the ceiling. Meg also looked up and saw a large devil's trap etched there. "Gotcha."

*****************SN************************

Meg looked up at Sam and Dean from her position tied to a chair in the devil's trap. "You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask."

Bobby came in with a very large canister of salt. "I salted the door and windows. If there are any demons out there – they ain't getting in."

Dean nodded and stood up, moving around Bobby and Sam to stand in front of Meg. "Where's our father, Meg?"

"You didn't ask very nice," said Meg.

"Where's our father, bitch?" asked Dean.

"Jeez. You kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh wait, I forgot, you don't."

Dean lunged at her, putting his hands on the chair arms and yelling. "You think this is a frigging game? Where is he? What did you do to him?"

"He died screaming. I killed him myself." Dean just looked at her with hate, and hit her across the face. "That's kind of a turn on – you hitting a girl."

"You're no girl."

Bobby stood and moved to the next room. "Dean." Dean followed, and Sam moved up to him.

"You okay?" asked Sam.

"She's lying," said Dean. "He's not dead."

"Dean, you got to be careful with her," said Bobby. "Don't hurt her."

"Why?" asked Dean.

"Because she really is a girl, that's why," said Bobby.

"What are you talking about?" asked Sam.

"She's possessed," said Bobby. "That's a human possessed by a demon. Can't you tell?"

"Are you trying to tell me there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?" asked Dean. Bobby nodded. Dean looked at Meg, who was staring back at him. "That's actually good news."

***********************SN**********************

Sam stood over Meg, holding John's journal. Sam looked at Dean, who looked back at his brother, and they moved over to Meg.

"Are you gonna read me a story?" asked Meg.

"Something like that," said Dean. "Hit it, Sam."

"Regna terrae, cantate deo, psallite domino…" Sam began the ritual.

Meg looked at Dean. "An exorcism? Are you serious?"

"Oh, we're going for it, baby – head spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards," said Dean.

"…tribuite virtutem deo," said Sam.

Meg flinched in pain. Sam looked at Dean. Meg looked over her shoulder at Sam. "I'm gonna to kill you." She looked at Dean. "I'm gonna rip the bones from your body."

"No, you're gonna burn in hell," said Dean. "Unless you tell us where our Dad is." Meg just smiled at him. "Well, at least you'll get a nice tan." He glanced up at Sam.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incuriso infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, onmis congregatio et secta diabolica..."

Meg had been shaking and was obviously in pain while Sam read the exorcism ritual. She finally gasped in pain, and Sam stopped.

"He begged for his life with tears in his eyes," said Meg. "He begged to see his sons one last time. That's when I slit his throat." Sam started reading again, and Dean leaned down to her.

"For your sake, I hope you're lying," said Dean. "'Cause if it's true, I swear to God, I will march into hell myself and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me God!"

"Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae." A wind started to blow through the room. "Hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei. Contremisce et effuge. Invocato a nobis sancto et terribile nomine. Quem inferi tremunt..." Meg started to show signs of being in pain again.

"Where is he?" asked Dean.

"You just won't take 'dead' for an answer, will you?" said Meg.

"Where is he?"

"Dead!"

"No, he's not! He's not dead! He can't be!" Sam looked at Dean with concern. "What are you looking at? Keep reading."

"Ab insidis diaboli, libera nos, domine. Ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias, libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos." Meg's char slid around in the trap. "Ut inimicos sanctae ecclesiae humiliare digneris, te rogamus audi..."

"He will be!" yelled Meg.

"Wait!" said Dean. "What?"

"He's not dead," said Meg. "But he will be after what we do to him."

"How do we know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't."

"Sam!"

"A building! Okay? A building in Jefferson City."

"Missouri? Where, where? An address!"

"I don't know."

"And the demon – the one we're looking for - where is it?" asked Sam.

"I don't know!" said Meg. "I swear! That's everything. That's all I know."

Dean stared at her for a minute. "Finish it."

"What?" said Meg. "I told you the truth!"

"I don't care."

"You son of a bitch, you promised."

"I lied! Sam?" Sam was silent, and Dean looked at him. "Sam! Read." Dean walked up to him.

"Maybe we can still use her," said Sam. "Find out where the demon is."

"She doesn't know," said Dean.

"She lied," said Sam.

"Sam, there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there. We've got to help her."

Bobby walked up. "You're gonna kill her."

"What?" said Dean.

"You said she fell from a building," said Bobby. "That girl's body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it – that girl is going to die."

"Listen to me, both of you, we are not gonna leave her like that," said Dean.

"She is a human being," said Bobby.

"And we're gonna put her out of her misery," said Dean. "Sam, finish it." Sam looked at his brother and Bobby, not sure what to do. He looked over at Meg. "Finish it."

Sam took a breath and kept going. "Dominicos sanctae ecclesiae, terogamus audi nos, terribilis deus do sanctuario suo deus israhel. Ipse tribuite virtutem et fortitudinem plebi suae, benedictus deus, gloria patri..."

Meg threw her head back and screamed. The demon left through her mouth in a black cloud and spread out in the protective circle in the ceiling before disappearing. Meg leaned forward, and blood started to drip from her mouth. The men stood there looking at her, not really sure it was over. Meg slowly lifted her head.

"She's still alive," said Dean. "Call 911. Get some water and blankets."

Bobby rushed off. Dean and Sam untied Meg.

"Thank you," Meg whispered.

"Shh, shh," said Sam. "Just take it easy, alright?"

"Come on," said Dean. "Let's get her down." They lifted Meg from the chair. There was the sound of bones crunching, and Meg screamed in pain. They lowered her to the floor.

"Sorry, sorry," said Sam. "I got you. I got you. It's okay. It's okay."

"A year," said Meg.

"What?" asked Sam.

"It's been a year," said Meg.

"Shh, just take it easy."

"I've been awake for some of it. I couldn't move my own body. The things I did – it's a nightmare."

"Was it telling us the truth about our Dad?" asked Dean.

"Dean," began Sam.

"We need to know," said Dean.

"Yes," said Meg. "But it wants... you to know... that... they want you to come for him."

"If Dad's still alive, none of that matters," said Dean.

Bobby came in with a blanket and a glass of water. He handed the glass to Dean while he and Sam covered her. Dean held her head up so she could drink.

"Where is the demon we're looking for?" asked Sam.

"Not there," said Meg. "Other ones. Awful ones."

"Where are they keeping our Dad?" asked Dean.

"By the river," said Meg. "Sunrise."

"'Sunrise,'" said Dean. "What does that mean? What does that mean?" Meg didn't respond.

Bobby walked with Sam and Dean to the front door. "You better hurry up and beat it. Before the paramedics get here."

"What are you gonna tell them?" asked Dean.

"You think you guys invented lying to the cops?" said Bobby. "I'll figure something out." He handed the Key of Solomon book to Sam. "Here, take this. You might need it."

"Thanks," said Sam.

"Thanks...for everything," said Dean. "Be careful, alright?"

"You just go find your Dad," said Bobby. "And when you do, you bring him around, would you? I won't even try to shoot him this time." Dean and Sam left.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

The Impala was parked by some train tracks in Jefferson City. Sam was looking through the Key of Solomon book on the roof of the car, spinning a marker in his hand. Dean was at the back of the car, loading up guns and putting them into his duffle bag. Dean was very solemn, and Sam looked over at him, concerned.

"You've been quiet," said Sam.

"Just getting ready," said Dean.

"He's gonna be fine, Dean," said Sam.

Dean didn't answer, and Sam flipped to another page of the book. He saw a symbol and picked up the book to walk to the open trunk lid. He rubbed off the dirt and started to draw on the lid.

"Dude, what are you drawing on my car?" Dean said as he came over to him.

"A devil's trap," said Sam. "Demons can't get through it, remember?"

"So?" said Dean.

Sam moved around to the other end of the trunk as Dean scratches at the markings on the trunk. "It basically turns the trunk into a lockbox."

"So?" said Dean.

"So, we have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad."

"What are you talking about? We're bringing the Colt with us."

"We can't, Dean. We've only got three bullets left. We can't just use them on any demon, we've got to use them on the demon."

"No, we have to save Dad, Sam, okay? We're gonna need all the help we can get."

"Dean, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets? Dean, he wouldn't want us to bring the gun."

"I don't care, Sam. I don't care what Dad wants, okay? And since when do you care what Dad wants?"

"We want to kill this demon. You used to want that, too. Hell, I mean, you're the one who came and got me at school!" Dean scoffed. "You're the one who dragged me back into this, Dean. I'm just trying to finish it!"

"Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that? You both can't wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I'm gonna be the one to bury you. You're selfish, you know that? You don't care about anything but revenge."

"That's not true, Dean," said Sam. Dean scoffed again. "I want Dad back. But they are expecting us to bring this gun. They get the gun, they will kill us all. That Colt is our only leverage and you know it, Dean. We cannot bring that gun. We can't."

"Fine."

"I'm serious, Dean."

"I said fine, Sam." Dean took the Colt out of his jacket pocket and held it up to show Sam before putting it in the trunk.

*****************SN*******************

Dean and Sam walked by the river. They stepped up beside some trees, and Dean stopped.

"Hey, hey," said Dean. Sam stopped and looked at him. "Think I know what Meg meant by Sunrise." Sam looked over and saw an apartment building with a sign out front that said "Sunrise Apartments." "Son of a bitch. That's pretty smart. I mean, if these demons can possess people they can possess almost anybody inside."

"Yeah, and make anybody attack us," said Sam.

"And so we can't kill them – a building full of human shields."

"They probably know exactly what we look like, too. And they could look like anybody."

"Yeah, this sucks out loud."

"Tell me about it. Alright, so, how the hell are we going to get in?"

Dean looked over at the building for a minute. "Pull the fire alarm, get out all the civilians."

"Okay, but then the city responds in, what, seven minutes?"

"Seven minutes exactly."

After Sam pulled the fire alarm and Dean distracted the fireman so Sam could get the uniforms, they put the uniforms on and walked into the building, heading up a couple floors. Dean pulled out his EMF meter, checking the doors.

"I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up," said Dean.

"You never told me that," said Sam. The EMF began squealing.

Dean pounded on the door. "This is the fire department! We need you to evacuate!"

The door opened, and they shoved it open. A woman was thrown backward as Dean and Sam came through. The brothers sprayed the couple with holy water from their tanks. Dean punched the man and shoved him into a closet.

"Come on!" Dean yelled. Sam grabbed the woman off the table and shoved her in as well. Dean leaned against the door, using his strength to keep it shut. "Hurry up!"

Sam grabbed a canister of salt from the duffle bag and ran a line around the closet door. As soon as he finished it, the pounding stopped. The boys took off the fireman gear and moved to the bedroom door. They slowly opened it and saw John on the bed. Dean went over to his father.

"Dad?" said Dean, leaning down and listening. "He's still breathing." Dean started shaking John. "Dad, wake up. Dad!" Dean took out a knife and was about to cut the restraints around John's wrists.

"Wait," said Sam. "Wait."

"What?"

"He could be possessed for all we know."

"What, are you nuts?"

"Dean, we got to be sure," said Sam. He took a flask of holy water out of the duffle bag and sprinkled it on John. It had no effect.

John moaned and started to come around. "Sam? Why are you splashing water on me?"

"Dad, are you okay?" asked Dean.

"They've been drugging me," said John. "Where's the Colt?"

"Don't worry, Dad, it's safe," said Sam. Dean cut him free.

"Good boys," said John. "Good boys."

Dean and Sam carried John out of the bedroom when the front door suddenly burst open, and a man and fireman came in.

"Go!" said Sam. "Go!"

"Back!" said Dean. "Back!"

They went back into the bedroom and closed the door, locking it. An axe suddenly came through the door. Sam ran a line of salt at the bedroom door. Dean and John ran to the fire escape, climbing out.

"Sam, let's go!" yelled Dean.

Sam tossed him the duffle bag and went through the window out onto the fire escape. He ran salt along the window sill. Dean helped John down onto the street, and Sam moved ahead of them. Sam was suddenly attacked by a man. He pinned Sam down on the street and started beating him to death. Dean put John down and went to his brother's aide.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, blurring over. He knew he could beat the demon, but the demon was ready for him.

The demon looked at him, and Dean was flung into a car, shattering the windshield. The man went back to beating Sam. There was a gunshot, and the man got a bullet through the head. He fell off of Sam, dead. Dean lowered the Colt and came over to his brother.

"Sam!" yelled Dean. He picked him up. "Sam, come on! Come on!" Dean got Sam onto his feet, and they looked at the dead man. The demon was dead and so was the man it was possessing. "Come on. We got to get out of here."

They went over to John and picked him up, leaving the area in a hurry.

*******************SN**********************

Sam poured salt along the window sill of the cabin they'd found that night. His face was a mess – bruised, bloody, and swollen. Dean came into the room.

"How is he?" asked Sam.

"He just needed a little rest, that's all," said Dean. "How are you?"

"I'll survive," said Sam. He turned to his brother. "Hey, you don't think we were followed here, do you?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. I mean, we couldn't have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up."

"Yeah." Sam looked at Dean. "Hey, uh...Dean, you, um...you saved my life back there."

"So, I guess you're glad I brought the gun, huh?"

"Man, I'm trying to thank you here."

"You're welcome," said Dean. Sam walked across the room. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there."

"You didn't have a choice, Dean."

"Yeah, I know, that's not what bothers me."

"Then what does?"

"Killing that guy, killing Meg. I didn't hesitate, I didn't even flinch. For you or Dad, the things I'm willing to do or kill, it's just, uh...it scares me sometimes."

John walked into the room. "It shouldn't. You did good."

"You're not mad?" asked Dean.

"For what?" asked John.

"Using a bullet."

"Mad? I'm proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you – you watch out for this family. You always have."

"Thanks."

The wind suddenly picked up, and the lights started to flicker. They all went over to the window.

"It found us," said John. "It's here."

"The demon?" asked Sam.

"Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door," said John.

"I already did it," said Sam.

"Well, check it, okay?" said John.

"Okay," said Sam, leaving the room.

"Dean, you got the gun?" asked John.

"Yeah," said Dean.

"Give it to me."

Dean took the Colt out of his jeans. "Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It vanished."

"This is me. I won't miss. Now, the gun, hurry." Dean hesitated and looked down at the gun. "Son, please." Dean back up a few steps. "Give me the gun. What are you doing, Dean?"

"He'd be furious," said Dean.

"What?"

"That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn't be proud of me, he'd tear me a new one." Dean raised the gun, pointing it at him and cocking it. "You're not my Dad."

"Dean, it's me."

"I know my Dad better than anyone. And you ain't him."

"What the hell's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Stay back."

Sam came into the room, shocked. "Dean? What the hell's going on?"

"Your brother's lost his mind," said John.

"He's not Dad," said Dean.

"What?" said Sam.

"I think he's possessed," said Dean. "I think he's been possessed since we rescued him."

"Don't listen to him, Sammy," said John.

"Dean, how do you know?" asked Sam.

"He's...he's different," said Dean.

"You know, we don't have time for this," said John. "Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you've gotta trust me." Sam looked back and forth between his father and brother. Dean glanced at him. "Sam?"

Sam looked back and forth. "No. No." He moved over to stand by his brother's side.

John looked at them. "Fine. You're both so sure, go ahead. Kill me." John looked down and waited. Dean held the gun on him, but couldn't pull the trigger. "I thought so." He looked back up, and his eyes were yellow. Sam lunged, but was thrown against the wall, pinned there. Dean was thrown against the adjacent wall, dropping the Colt. The Yellow-Eyed Demon possessing John picked up the Colt. "What a pain in the ass this thing's been."

"But the holy water," said Sam.

"You think something like that works on something like me?" said Yellow-Eyes.

Sam tried to fight the force that had him pinned to the wall, but failed. "I'm gonna kill you!"

"Oh, that'd be a neat trick," said Yellow-Eyes. "In fact," he put the gun down on a table, "here. Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy." Sam looked at the gun, but nothing happened. "Well, this is fun." He walked over to the window beside Dean. "I could've killed you a hundred times today, but this..." he sighed, "this is worth the wait." Yellow-Eyes looked over at Dean. "Your Dad – he's in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says 'hi,' by the way. He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

"Let him go, or I swear to God—" said Dean.

"What? What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice." Yellow-Eyes came over to Dean. "You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

"Who, Meg?"

"The one in the alley? That was my boy. You understand?"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"What? You're the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?" He smiled at Dean. "Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don't make a right."

"You son of a bitch."

"I wanna know why," said Sam. "Why'd you do it?"

Yellow-Eyes looked at Sam. "You mean why did I kill Mommy and pretty, little Jess?"

"Yeah," said Sam.

Yellow-Eyes looked at Dean as he moved over to Sam. "You know, I never told you this, but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything." He turned to Sam. "You want to know why? Because they got in the way."

"In the way of what?"

"My plans for you, Sammy. You... and all the children like you."

"Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh?" said Dean. "'Cause I really can't stand the monologuing."

Yellow-Eyes walked over to Dean. "Funny, but that's all part of your M.O., isn't it? Mask all that nasty pain, mask the truth."

"Oh, yeah?" said Dean. "What's that?"

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don't need you. Not like you need them. Sam – he's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you."

"I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh wait, I forgot. I wasted 'em."

Dean smiled at him, and Yellow-Eyes looked at Dean. He stepped back and put his head down. When he looked back up, Dean suddenly yelled in pain.

"Dean!" said Sam. "No!"

Dean started to bleed heavily from his chest. Sam started to struggle against the force pinning him.

"Dad!" said Dean. "Dad, don't you let it kill me!" Yellow-Eyes looked at him again and smiled. Dean started yelling in pain.

"Dean!" Sam yelled. "No!"

The blood was flowing out of Dean. Sam struggled as hard as he could to break free. Blood was running out of Dean's mouth.

"Dad, please," said Dean before he passed out.

"Dean!" Sam yelled.

"Stop," said John, his eyes back to normal. He was near tears. "Stop it."

Sam was suddenly let go. He dived and grabbed the gun off the table. John turned to him, his eyes turning yellow again. Sam aimed the gun at him.

"You kill me, you kill Daddy," said Yellow-Eyes.

"I know," said Sam. He fired the gun, shooting John in the leg. He fell down, and so did Dean. Sam got up and went to his brother. "Dean? Dean, hey? Oh God, you've lost a lot of blood."

"Where's Dad?" asked Dean.

"He's right here," said Sam. "He's right here, Dean."

"Go check on him," said Dean.

"Dean."

"Go check on him."

Sam got up and went over to check on John. He was laying motionless on the floor. "Dad? Dad?"

John lurched from his position on the floor. "Sammy! It's still alive. It's inside me, I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son!" Sam aimed the gun at John. "Do it now!"

"Sam, don't you do it," said Dean. "Don't you do it."

"You've gotta hurry!" said John. "I can't hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I'm begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!"

"Sam, no," said Dean.

"You do this!" said John. "Sammy! Sam…"

The demon suddenly left John in a black cloud from his mouth. It disappeared through the floor. John looked at Sam, disappointed.

******************SN**************************

Sam drove the Impala, his shot father in the passenger seat and a woozy, bleeding Dean in the back seat. He was starting to look a little better, though. Guess transgenics do heal fast.

"Look, just hold on, alright," said Sam. "The hospital's only ten minutes away."

"I'm surprised at you, Sammy," said John. "Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this. Killing this demon comes first – before me, before everything."

Sam looked in the rear view mirror at Dean. "No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we've still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, alright? I mean, we already found the demon once, we can—"

An eighteen wheeler suddenly slammed into the passenger side of the Impala at full speed, driving it sideways in front of it.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sam's eyes snapped open inside the Impala. He could hear footsteps outside the car, and he grabbed the Colt and aimed it at the door, ready. The door was pulled off its hinges, and a man with black eyes stood there.

"Get back," said Sam. "Or I'll kill you, I swear to God."

"You won't," said the demon. "You're saving that bullet for someone else."

Sam cocked the gun. "You wanna bet?"

The demon smiled and blew out of his host, who collapsed. Sam dropped the gun into his lap, dropping his head back in relief.

"Oh my God!" said the man.

Sam looked over at his father, who had blood running down his forehead and was unconscious. "Dad?"

"Did I do this?" said the man.

"Dad!" said Sam. Giving up, he tried to turn his head to look at Dean, but he couldn't move his head that far. He couldn't hear anything from the backseat. "Dean? Dean!"

*********************SN**************************

Sam ran into Dean's hospital room, seeing Dean's comatose body on the bed. There was a breathing tube down his throat. Sam stopped at the door and stared at his brother's body, breathing heavily.

"Oh, no," said Sam.

The doctor entered the room. "Your father's awake. You can go see him if you like."

Sam looked at Dean and back at the doctor. "Doc, what about my brother?"

"Well, he sustained serious injury: blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidney. But it's the head trauma I'm worried about. There's early signs of cerebral edema."

"Well, what can we do?"

"Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up. If he wakes up."

"If?"

"I have to be honest, most people with this degree of injury wouldn't have survived this long. He's fighting very hard. But you need to have realistic expectations."

The doctor left, and Sam looked back at his brother's body.

*************************SN**************************

John lay in his hospital bed, his arm in a sling. He pulled something out of his wallet. "Here. Give them my insurance."

Sam took the card, smiling. "Elroy McGillicutty?"

"And his two loving sons," said Dean. "So, what else did the doctor say about Dean?"

"Nothing. Look. Dean's a transgenic, right? He heals fast. He'll be fine. And if not...then we'll have to find something."

John nodded. "We'll look for someone."

"Yeah."

"But Sam, I don't know if we're gonna find anyone."

"Why not? I found that faith healer before."

"Right, that was, that was one in a million."

"So what? Do we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?"

"No, I said we'd look. All right? I'll check under every stone." John paused. "Where's the Colt?"

"Your son is probably dying, and you're worried about the Colt?"

"We're hunting this demon, and maybe it's hunting us too. That gun may be our only card."

"It's in the trunk. They dragged the car to a yard off of I-83."

"All right. You've gotta clean out that trunk before some junk man sees what's inside."

"I already called Bobby. He's like an hour out, he's gonna tow the Impala back to his place."

"All right. You, you go meet up with Bobby. You get that Colt, and you bring it back to me. And you watch out for hospital security."

"I think I've got it covered." Sam got up to leave.

John picked up a sheet of paper. "Hey. Here. I made a list of things I need, have Bobby pick them up for me."

Sam read the paper. "Acacia? Oil of Abramelin? What's this stuff for?"

"Protection."

"Hey, Dad? You know, the demon, he said he had plans for me, and children like me. Do you have any idea what he meant by that?"

"No, I don't."

Sam left, shutting the door.

********************SN****************************

Sam looked at the mangled car as Bobby stood next to him in the junkyard.

"Oh man, Dean is gonna be pissed," said Sam.

"Look, Sam," said Bobby. "This...this just ain't worth a tow. I say we empty the trunk, sell the rest for scrap."

Sam pulled his smashed laptop out of the backseat. "No. Dean would kill me if we did that. When he gets better he's gonna want to fix this."

"There's nothing to fix. The frame's a pretzel, and the engine's ruined. There's barely any parts worth salvaging."

"Listen to me, Bobby. If there's only one working part, that's enough. We're not just going to give up on..."

Bobby understood what Sam was saying. "Okay. You got it."

"I mean...I know if Dean were dying, then something would happen, right?" said Sam. "I mean, with the things we deal with every day...wouldn't his spirit be around or something? Bilocation, crisis apparitions, fetches...you know, the spirits of people close to death. But that's not happening...I don't think. So, he's gotta be fine, right?"

Bobby nodded. "You bet."

"Here, uh, Dad asked for you to get this stuff for him," said Sam, handing over the list.

Bobby looked at it, frowning. "What's John want with this?"

"Protection from the demon," said Sam. Bobby gave him a look. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just, um..." said Bobby.

"Bobby?" said Sam. "What's going on?"

"This stuff doesn't protect against a demon," said Bobby. "It summons one."

******************SN*********************

Sam stalked into John's room with a duffel bag, heading for the window.

"You're quiet," said John.

Sam turned, fuming, and hurled the bag onto the bed with a crash. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

"What are you talking about?" asked John.

"That stuff from Bobby, you don't use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one. You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you? Having some stupid macho showdown?"

"I have a plan, Sam."

"That's exactly my point! Dean is in a coma, and you have a plan! You know what, you care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son!"

"Do not tell me how I feel! I am doing this for Dean!"

"How? How is revenge going to help him? You're not thinking about anybody but yourself, it's the same selfish obsession!"

"You know, it's funny, I thought it was your obsession too! This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this hunt. Now if you'd killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened."

"It was possessing you, Dad, I would have killed you too."

"Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now."

"Go to hell."

"I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake, I knew I was wrong." Sam and John looked out into the hall when people started running by. "Something's going on out there." John jerked his head, indicating for Sam to find out.

Sam ran down the hall, following the people until they led him to Dean's room. Monitors were beeping, and a doctor and some nurses were surrounding Dean, resuscitating him.

"All clear," said the doctor.

Sam huddled in the doorway, tears in his eyes. "No."

"Still no pulse," said the nurse.

"Okay, let's go again, 360," said the doctor.

"Charging," said the nurse.

Sam watched in shock as they shocked Dean with the defibrillator. After a moment, beeping began again.

"We have a pulse," said the nurse. "We're back into sinus rhythm."

Sam sighed in relief and sank back into the hallway, heading to John's room.

"What happened?" asked John, seeing Sam's pale face.

"It was Dean," said Sam.

"What happened to him?" asked John.

"He flatlined," said Sam.

"He what?" said John, eyes widening.

"They resusitated him, don't worry," said Sam, sitting down on the bed. "You think he's gonna make it? I mean, he's strong. He'll bounce back, right?"

John looked down at his legs. "I don't know, Sammy. I don't know." He looked up at Sam. "Sam...I promise I won't hunt this demon. Not until we know Dean's okay."

Sam nodded, leaving to go get some coffee.

***************************SN****************************

Sam walked into Dean's room that night, looking down at his big brother. The cuts appeared to be smaller and less red on his face, but he was still pale and asleep.

Sam sat on Dean's bed, looking at him. "It'd be nice to hear from you, man. It hasn't been the same without you, Dean." Sam looked down at his hands, sighing. "Look, you gotta keep fighting. I mean, come on, you can't, you can't leave me here alone with dad, we'll kill each other, you know that." He paused, putting his hand on Dean's flaccid one. "Dean, you've got to hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just starting to be brothers again."

Sam closed his eyes, turning his head down. He felt a twitch under his hand, and he looked up at Dean's face. Dean's eyes were twitching back and forth under the eyelids, and his fingers were clutching at the bedspread.

"Dean?" said Sam, leaning forward. Dean's eyes slowly slid open, looking up at the ceiling. He immediately started convulsing as he weakly grabbed at the tube. He started choking as he tried to rip the tube out. Sam grabbed Dean's hands, knowing his brother would hurt himself if he pulled it out. Sam turned his head toward the door. "Help! I need help!"

A nurse came running into the room. The nurse stood over Dean, looking into his face.

"I need to take the tube out, okay?" asked the nurse. Dean looked into her face, still choking. He quickly nodded. "I need you to blow out a big breath when I say three, okay?"

Dean nodded again.

The nurse tilted his chin up and grasped the tube. "One...two...three."

Dean let out a deep breath as the nurse pulled the tube out of his throat. Dean coughed as his hand went to his throat. Sam immediately grabbed the glass of water and put it to Dean's lips. Dean quickly drank the whole thing.

"Dean, you okay?" asked Sam.

Dean nodded, wincing.

"Are you in any pain?" asked the nurse.

Dean nodded again, and the nurse left to get his pain medication.

"What happened?" asked Dean hoarsely.

"You don't remember?" asked Sam. Dean frowned. "The demon...the accident..."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah." He looked out the window to see the night sky. "We finally get to the hospital, huh?"

"Dean, you've been in a coma for two days," said Sam.

"I have?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, the car accident gave you a good bump on the head," said Sam.

"The car accident..." said Dean. His eyes suddenly widened, and he looked up at Sam. "What about the car? Is she alright?"

Sam grimaced and looked down at his hands. "I'm not gonna lie to you...it doesn't look good."

"Oh, dammit," said Dean.

"Don't worry," said Sam. "Bobby's got her at his place. You can fix her up when you get better."

The nurse walked back into the room with some pills.

"I'm gonna go tell Dad you're awake," said Sam.

Dean nodded, and Sam left the room. He walked back to his father's room, but it was empty. Sam rushed back to Dean's room. He waited until the nurse left before rushing to Dean's bed.

"Dad's gone," said Sam.

"What?" said Dean.

"He's not in his room," said Sam.

"Well, where is he?" asked Dean.

"I don't know," said Sam. "He could be..."

"Sam?" asked Dean.

"Those supplies," said Sam. "Dad sent me to get supplies from Bobby, supplies to summon a demon. You don't think—"

"No," said Dean. "I mean, why would he summon a demon?"

"Well, I don't think he was thinking straight," said Sam. "I mean, the last news he heard on you was that you flatlined—"

"I what?" said Dean, sitting further up in bed.

"Hey, we got T-boned by a semi," said Sam. "What did you expect?"

Dean rolled his eyes, focusing on the matter at hand. "Yeah, he's clearly not thinking straight." He looked around. "He'd be somewhere no one would interrupt him." They looked at each other.

"The basement," Sam and Dean said.

Dean jumped up out of bed.

"Wait, Dean, what are you doing?" asked Sam.

"If he really is summoning a demon, you'll need my help," said Dean. "No complaints. I got pain meds, and I'm healing, so shut up."

Sam and Dean ran down to the basement, heading to the door of the boiler room. They sat John standing in front of a man...a man with yellow eyes.

"Dammit," muttered Dean. "What is he doing?" He spotted the Colt in John's hand. "Why isn't he shooting it?"

Dean quietly propped the door open, making sure they didn't see him. As he and Sam snuck into the corner of the room, they listened to the conversation.

"Good," said John. "Before I give you the gun, I'm going to want to make sure that Dean's okay. With my own eyes."

"Oh, John, I'm offended," said Yellow-Eyes. "Don't you trust me?" John shook his head. "Fine."

"So we have a deal?" asked John.

"He's making a deal with him," Dean muttered quietly to Sam. "He thinks I'm dying, so he's making a deal to save me." He looked back at Sam. "Wait here." Dean began to sneak around the room, approaching the wall behind John.

"No, John, not yet," said Yellow-Eyes. "You still need to sweeten the pot."

"With what?" asked John.

"There's something else I want, as much as that gun," said Yellow-Eyes. "Maybe more."

Dean blurred forward, snatching the Colt out of John's hand and pointing it at Yellow-Eyes. "Well, you ain't getting it."

Dean pulled the trigger, shooting Yellow-Eyes in the head. The demon crumpled to the floor, light shooting out of it. The yellow eyes faded as the demon died. John stared in shock at Dean.

"You're okay?" asked John, eyes wide.

"What the hell, Dad?" said Dean. "Life's looking a little down, so you start making deals with devils?"

"Well..." began John, still in shock that Dean was okay.

"What were you thinking?" said Dean. His adrenaline finally left him, and he collapsed to his knees on the floor.

"Dean!" Sam called as he rushed over to Dean. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just get me back upstairs," said Dean. Sam lifted Dean to his feet, helping him towards the door. "Wait, wait...something I need to do." Dean looked back at the Yellow-Eyed Demon. "That was for our mom...you son of a bitch."

John smiled as he helped Sam get Dean back up to the hospital room. They got Dean back in the bed.

"So, you're really okay?" asked John.

"Told you, Dad," said Dean. "Transgenics heal fast."

"I still can't believe it," said John.

"Well, I'll just be glad when I get out of here," said Dean.

**********************SN***********************

Four months later, Dean drove his shiny, fixed-up Impala up to Terminal City with Sam and John tagging along. They pulled into Terminal City, which no longer had a fence around it. It also looked like they'd been fixing it up to look like the rest of town. Dean walked into command central with his family.

"Dean!" said Max, coming up and hugging him. "How are you?"

"Better," said Dean.

"Tell me you got that demon," said Max.

"Oh, he's dead," said Dean.

"Thank God," said Max. "No one messes with my town."

"Or my family," said Dean with a smile.

"You got that right," said Max with a megawatt smile.

Dean frowned. "What's with you? You look like you won the lottery."

"Close enough," said Max. She looked back at Logan, her smile practically jumping out of her. She smiled back at Dean. "I'm pregnant!"

Dean smiled. "What?"

"Three months now," said Max.

"That's awesome, guys!" said Dean. He hugged Max again. He looked over at Logan and gave him an air high five. "Congratulations! Sounds like you guys have been busy."

"Well, other than that, there's been the reconstruction of Terminal City," said Max. "That's pretty much taking up most of my time. How's your summer been?"

"Well, we killed a bunch of vampires, demons kidnapped our Dad, we saved him, he got possessed, a semi T-boned the Impala, I got stuck in a coma for a few days, and then we killed the demon," said Dean. "All in a good day's work."

Max grimaced. "I think I like my life better."

"You should," said Dean.

Max looked at him. "I'm glad you're healed."

Dean frowned. "You mean, the whole torture incident?" Max nodded. "Yeah, I healed, like, four months ago, Max."

"Still, I didn't get a chance to say it then," said Max.

"Well, thank you," said Dean. "So, what's your plan? Buy a house, get a desk job?"

"Well, actually, we're getting married," said Max. "In three months."

Dean smiled. "Well, double congratulations."

"What about you guys?" asked Logan.

"Well, I'm gonna keep hunting with my dad," said Dean. "Small hunts, though. I don't wanna do this the rest of my life."

"What about you, Sam?" asked Max.

"I think I'm gonna go back to school," said Sam. "I'm not sure what I want to go into anymore, but...I'll think of something."

"Well, I wish you luck," said Max.

"You, too," said Dean. "Call me when you set a date. We'll be there."

Max walked back to Logan as the Winchesters headed back to the Impala.

"So, you're going back to school?" asked Dean.

"Maybe...eventually," said Sam. "I mean, that's definitely what I want to do with my life, but...not right now, you know?"

"Then what?" asked John.

"I think I'll stick around you guys," said Sam. "You know, family business or whatever."

Dean smiled. "Alright. Let's hit the road."

***************SN***************

Dean stood in front of the door, staring at the wood and shifting back and forth on his feet. He finally raised a hand to knock, but the door opened before he could.

"Dean?" asked Isabelle. Dean smiled at her as he stared. Isabelle looked at his hand, and Dean looked at it to see it was still in the air. He quickly lowered it. "What are you doing here?"

Dean took a deep breath. "I wanted to..." He took another breath. "I was wondering if..." He sighed, looking down at his feet. He began wringing his hands. "Would you like to-"

"I'd love to," said Isabelle.

Dean's head snapped up to look at her, a frown on his face. "What?"

"I'd love to go to dinner with you," said Isabelle, a blush creeping onto her face.

Dean smiled as he realized Isabelle had figured out what he had been wanting to ask. "Really?"

Isabelle smiled. "Yeah."

Dean smiled even wider, holding his hand out. "Shall we, then?"

Isabelle's smile also grew as she took his hand. "We shall."

Isabelle closed her door as she and Dean walked through the forest, hand-in-hand towards their new life together.

THE END


	26. Chapter 26

**WARNING!**

**Public service announcement!**

I am not quitting fanfiction! I am currently working on printing and binding my current stories for my storage. When I am finished with that, I will work on my stories again.

I will first do a songfic (my first one). Then a season three story. Then a mermaid story. Then Don't You Cry No More 3. Then The Winchester That Wasn't 2. I'm excited about all of them!

I'll see you guys in a few weeks!


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